An Affair of the Heart
by Life's-For-Living
Summary: A new Number Two sparks a fresh duel, as the Village announces a new programme. A coupling programme, to be specific. And with our hero's iron will and resolve being artificially weakened, will Number Six be able to continue to resist?
1. The Coupling Programme

**(A/N). Hello there! And welcome to my Prisoner fan fic. I know this fandom is rather small, but have always adored the show ever since I was a child. I really believe that this story has a lot to offer to Prisoner fans so have finally summoned up enough motivation to start work on it. I don't want to prattle on too much, though. I will try and update as often as I can. With that said, on with the first chapter.**

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_Daytime. __London, England._

_Storm clouds roll overhead, a clasp of thunder is heard. Slowly, the thunder turns to the sound of a jet engine._

_A runaway appears into view. A lone vehicle travels along it. A Lotus Super Seven drives towards us, driven by a stern-faced man. _

_Our view changes again to reveal the Houses of Parliament, the man driving past and towards Hyde Park. The Lotus enters an underground car park._

_Entering the building through a set of double doors, the man strides down a long, narrow corridor leading to another set of double doors, he pulls these open with great ferocity. The man mounts a fierce argument before a man at a desk, delivers an envelope marked "Private - Personal - By Hand" to the other man, and slams his fist onto the desk, smashing the saucer of a cup of tea. The angry man leaves and drives home to Buckingham Place...not realising that he is being followed by a hearse._

_Meanwhile, in an unknown location of filing cabinets, an automated system types a series of large X's across the man's photograph and drops it into a drawer marked **"RESIGNED"**._

_At the man's home, he quickly packs his possessions. The hearse pulls up and a man dressed like an undertaker approaches the front door. Suddenly, a white vapour floods the room through the keyhole, rendering the man unconscious... Blackness..._

_The man awakens and observes his surroundings. Seemingly still in his home, the man rises, walks towards his window, looks out...and sees the Village. Blinking with incredulity, the man hurries outside... We hear the sound of voices. One male, one female._

_The man: "Where am I?"_

_The woman: "In the Village."_

_The man: "What do you want?" (he crosses the empty Village square)._

_The woman: "Information."_

_The man: "Whose side are you on?"_

_The woman: "That would be telling. We want information...information...information!"_

_The man: "You won't get it!" (he runs along a beach)._

_The woman: "By hook or by crook, we will." (__a large, white orb rises from the bottom of the sea and into view, bursting to the surface)._

_The man: "Who are you?"_

_The woman: "The new Number Two." (watching from a large room, seated in a globe chair, the woman observes as the man races away from the orb)._

_The man: "Who is Number One?"_

_The woman: "You are Number Six." (we see a control room, and two men seated on a See-Saw like apparatus)._

_The man: "I am not a number, I am a free man!" (he punches the air with fury)._

_We hear the sound of the woman's laughter, our view turning to darkness..._

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_._

"Good morning, good morning, good morning!" the distinct, female voice echoed on Number Six's radio. "And what a lovely day it is, too! Rise and shine! Rise and shine!"

To Number Six, this woman's voice had irritatingly become the signature sound of every single morning. To him, she was like a personal alarm clock. Her dulcet tones also had a habit of lulling him off to sleep as well. He never paid much attention to the words she uttered, however, as they were usually repetitive and of little consequence to him... This particular morning, though, her words did pique his interest ever so slightly.

"Before our regular programme of early morning music, we have an announcement to make." Oddly (for her, at least), the woman paused for a brief second before then continuing in a soft tone of voice... "Do you long to hold another's hand in your own? Do you long for the touch of that special someone?"

Number Six cocked his head in slight bemusement, as he got off the bed and put on his dressing gown, slowly making his way towards the kitchen.

Her voice growing in tone and enthusiasm, she continued. "Do you long for the kisses of your beloved?" She giggled ever so slightly. "If you do, then your day is tomorrow! More on this later. Now...music." At her command, an energetic march began to play.

"Probably should have chosen a more romantic melody, eh?" another female voice suddenly spoke up.

Number Six spun to face his front door...coming face to face with the new Number Two. Having been so intrigued by the announcer's words, Number Six hadn't even heard the sound of his front door opening.

Smiling to herself on attaining this small victory of surprising the Village's most important resident, the older woman began to slowly walk towards Number Six. She was around mid 50's in age, with dark chestnut hair. And she was very tall for a woman, nearly 6 feet in height... "I do hope you don't find this intruding."

"Certainly not," Number Six remarked in a sharp tone, as he headed into his kitchen area. "Would you care for some tea?"

"Well, we are in a pleasant mood, aren't we?" Number Two quickly made herself comfortable on one of the kitchen stools. "And yes, I'd love some." With a subtle nod of her head in the direction of the radio, the brass band that was playing suddenly stopped.

Either not noticing or caring about this, Number Six busied himself in preparing the kettle, his back turned to her. "Settling in, are you?" he asked as he plugged the kettle in and started it going.

"Here?"

"Yes." Number Six turned around to face her. "Here, there...everywhere?" He narrowed his light blue eyes slightly.

"Ha." She smiled... "The truth will out. You are sore about having your morning routine shaken up, aren't you?"

"Not at all, not at all." He shook his head slightly. "One gets used to expecting the unexpected around here."

"I get the feeling you haven't had an honest conversation in ages,'' she remarked off-handedly. "I noticed that when we met the other day."

"Indeed." Six lowered his head slightly, his fingers already beginning to drum on the kitchen surface.

"Every conversation doesn't have to be a verbal duel, you know? There are others way of communicating."

"Oh, I'm certain." His voice was dripping with barely disguised disdain.

"A good, old-fashioned...honest conversation." She practically beamed as she set down the umbrella she'd been holding onto.

"In that case...who are you?"

"Who am I?"

"Yes." Six pursed his lips slightly. "Your name? Age? Place of birth?"

Number Two allowed herself a small giggle at Number Six's words.

"Or better still." Number Six leaned forward slightly... "Who is Number One?"

"As I'm sure you're already aware,'' she spoke with a frown now on her face. "Questions are a burden to others, and-"

"Answers a prison to oneself," Number Six finished her sentence with a slight roll of his eyes, as he attended to the kettle and teapot... "So much for honest conversations."

"I assure you I'm quite sincere." To push home her point, Number Two then divulged as much personal information as able. "You want to know more about me? Who I am? Fine... I was born to a poor, yet loving family. But my beginnings were...rather harsh. Yet through...certain circumstances, I was fortunate enough to have elocution lessons. A small thing, you might think. But without a doubt it changed my life."

"Your parents died when you were extremely young, then? At some point during the first World War, perhaps?" Number Six correctly deduced.

Number Two furrowed her brow slightly before casting her gaze downward. "I do not wish to say any more for now."

Number Six didn't push the matter any further. He duly just set about preparing the tea. He didn't really believe her. And even if he did, what did it matter? He knew why she was here. He knew why she would make such efforts, even going the extra mile and maybe, just maybe...revealing some truthful information. And yes, the more he thought about what she said, the more he believed it. But it didn't change anything. It would not serve to soften his position... However, due to the fact a part of him did appreciate her efforts, that she was a woman, and the fact that she was one of the older Number Two's to ever hold office...he did decide to treat her with the utmost courtesy. Carrying the now filled tray over towards her, Number Six set it down on the small table before taking a seat opposite her. "Do you take sugar?"

"No, thank you." She removed one of the cups from the tray.

"I do appreciate your...manner" (Number Six finding himself unable to say the word, 'honesty'). "It's...rather refreshing." He ran his fingers along the edge of the small cup.

"You're welcome." She took a sip of the tea before setting it down... "I know that many of the former Number Two's have been rather forceful with you. With the whole Village, in fact." She let out a regretful sigh... "But I'm not like that. I've seen my fair share of pain in my time. I have no intention of bringing misfortune or petty tricks. I'm simply here to keep the ship steady. They know that... In fact, I sometimes wonder why I've been given this position at all. They know that I'm not nearly as important as some of my predecessors. And given the nature of the way things are being handled behind the curtain...who knows how long I'll be here." She let out a rather troubled deep breath, knowing that the life expectancy for old Number Two's was very short.

"You don't seem to have much respect or confidence in your masters." Number Six noted.

Ignoring this, Number Two continued. "However...I am loyal. And I do have a job to do." She met his gaze before taking another sip of her tea.

"Go on." Number Six continued to toy with his cup.

"It would be beneficial to me personally if...if I could get something from you."

"There it is," Six murmured, almost disappointed in himself for daring to genuinely like this woman.

"I don't mean information." She smiled. "I don't care about your secrets. I don't care about the reason behind your resignation."

Hardly processing her words, Number Six finished his tea in one, strong gulp, his minor trust in her now all but gone.

"I mean it." She reached out a hand and touched his.

Number Six looked down at her delicately lined, smooth, soft hand, slightly shaken by her touch...

With a small intake of breath, Number Two withdrew her hand... "I mean...join in. Be more sociable."

Pulling at his dressing gown, Number Six cast his gaze to the kitchen floor.

"Your treatment towards the other citizens is rather, shall we say...hostile at times. And all the activities you do take part in are mostly of an individualistic nature."

"And to be an individual is to be a menace, yes?" Number Six rose to his feet.

"There's being an individual and then there's being a social outcast," she returned before also getting to her feet, snatching the umbrella into her grasp as she did so. "All it does is draw attention to you. It's what's been driving these previous Number Two's against you, don't you see that?"

"Frankly, I don't care." He stepped out from behind the kitchen table and started to make his way towards the front door, trying to send a strong hint towards Number Two to leave.

"Alright!" she declared... "I'll make a deal with you."

"I'm not interested."

"There will be no more tricks. No more efforts against you."

"And you, in such a tenuous position, can guarantee that?" Number Six slowly turned back around to face her, his fingers on his left hand twitching violently.

"You heard the announcer." The older woman motioned her head towards the now mute radio. "The Village is beginning its first ever coupling programme."

"Coupling?" Number Six afforded himself a slight smile. "In this place?"

"It has happened before."

"It's against the rules."

"Only under certain circumstances." She explained. "If a man and wife were to come to this Village then they would not be separated. It was only the forging of new relationships that was frowned upon."

As he recalled the good professor and his wife, Number Six realised that Number Two was probably telling the truth about this.

"And you have met the children."

"Who are kept in a nursery style barracks." He sneered.

"As I said...it was frowned upon." Number Two spoke the words in a slightly shameful tone of voice, as though not agreeing with the fact that children born in the Village are immediately separated from their parents.

"What's changed?"

"The powers that be agree that new residents will be more cooperative if they're afforded a chance to have...pleasure without fear of punishment." Number Two spoke candidly. "I assure you, Number Six. No matter race, age, religion or even gender...they will come together tomorrow night. It will be a success. And one by one, all the individuals of this place will become...whole. Together. Having found peace and contentment with their true loves."

"And you believe that?"

"Yes." She nodded. "It's my idea. My programme."

"To make them care so much about someone else that the very idea of that person getting hurt will cause them to give themselves over to the Village. Is that it?"

"If that were the case we could threaten loved ones outside the Village, couldn't we?" Number Two challenged. "All I want to bring is happiness to people, Number Six, that's all. I want to make this place the very best it can be. I'm not like the others." She let out a small sigh, wondering if her words were having any impact at all. "I assure you, Number Six...I'll never resort to force."

Number Six began to pace up and down on the tiger rug, his hands behind his back and his fingers still twitching, his mind working overtime...

"I hope you'll be there. For my sake...and yours." Number Two took a deep breath before walking towards the front door, which promptly swung open the moment she began to approach it. On reaching it, she stopped and turned around to face the Village's most famous rebel. "There's nothing wrong with moving on, you know. There's nothing wrong in allowing yourself to be happy."

His opinion of her still not fully formed, Number Six gave her the familiar salute before walking up the small flight of steps, heading to get dressed. "Be seeing you."

"Tomorrow night?"

"Wouldn't you like to know." He disappeared into his bedroom.

Smiling to herself, Number Two exited the premises, leaving Number Six to think about what had just happened for the rest of the day.

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**(A/N). And so we come to the end of chapter one. I would like to know your thoughts on the story, so please feel free to leave me a quick review. I accept all comments and welcome constructive criticism. **

**All the best.**

**Be seeing you.**


	2. An Old Friend

**(A/N). Hello everyone. Welcome to the second chapter of my Prisoner fan fic. Thanks for your support.**

**Right then, on with the chapter.**

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"Waiter!" Number Six called as he held out his empty cup of coffee. "Another please."

"Certainly, sir." The waiter took the cup before heading back into the cafe.

Number Six was tired. Mentally and physically. Immediately after his taxing conversation with Number Two, he'd set about his day in an attacking way. He'd dressed, eaten and begun an even more vigorous days exercise than usual. After walking the length of the entire Village three straight times, he'd set about several games of Kosho before working out on his own home made training apparatus. All this with several chess games lodged in between had finally taken its toll.

"Here you are, sir." The waiter placed the full cup of coffee down on the table in front of Number Six.

"Thanks." Bringing the cup to his lips, Six felt the warmth of the coffee sting... Letting out a deep, relaxed breath, he observed his fellow villagers. He was watching them much more closely today. As much as he was loath to admit it to himself, this new Number Two had intrigued him. The whole coupling scheme reeked of something foul. But it wasn't just her unusual method of control that was vexing him. It was the sincerity behind it. He'd grown so accustomed to seeing the various faces of different Number Two's coming and going, each with their own respective strengths, weaknesses and facades. But they all had one thing in common. They were all lacking in genuine feeling, in warmth and belief in their convictions. She was different... Very different.

Out of all the previous Number Two's, only one was similar to her in terms of friendliness and genuine character. A man who was long gone from this post now. And while that particular Number Two had, naturally, plotted deviously against Number Six (as most Number Two's do), at least there was some integrity in his words. Hidden behind his blustery manner and jovial nature was someone who genuinely believed in the ideals of the Village. And even though the idea of the whole Earth as the Village was a nightmarish thought for Number Six, he could at least respect that particular nemesis for truly having the heart to believe in his viewpoint, and to do everything in his power to see it become a reality. In fact, in some ways, Number Six knew they were not too dissimilar. And if he was to be completely honest with himself...Number Six knew that he had dared to sense a kindred spirit within that man. Two opposite sides of the same coin, as it were... And he could sense this new Number Two was much the same.

"Hello, Number Six!" a cheery voice suddenly exclaimed, dragging the Prisoner away from his thoughts.

"Ah...Eighty-nine." Number Six glanced up at the younger man. They'd only met a few weeks back, but he seemed pleasant enough to talk to. As with all new prisoners, Number Six kept his distance, just in case the new resident was a Village plant, a guardian in disguise. This particular new arrival stood out for the fact he was so young. He was only around mid 20's in age, slim and rather tall. In fact, Number Six couldn't help but note many similarities to his younger self. He also acted rather odd. Apart from his first day, he hadn't seem overly thrown by suddenly appearing in the Village. He'd knuckled down and adjusted extremely quickly after disappearing for a couple of days after been summoned to the Green Dome (no doubt to be interrogated). But there was a fire in the young man's eyes. Number Six had the feeling that he was the one behind one of the recent Jammer movements. It was a report of a makeshift bomb in the town hall.. Of course, Number Six knew he couldn't fully trust him. But his tried and tested method of separating prisoners from guardians still worked. If he was a guardian, he was the best actor of the lot.

"Looking forward to the...event tomorrow?" Number Eighty-nine tried to find the right words to describe what the coupling programme really was.

"Hardly." Number Six let out a small, disgruntled sigh. "Will you be attending?"

"Of course." Eighty-nine gave a small nod of his head as he sat down opposite Number Six. "No point in being unsociable... Besides, it's been a while since I had any...female company, if you know what I mean."

"Yes." Number Six took another sip of his coffee, eyeing the younger man with slight suspicion.

"Something wrong?" The younger man picked up on Number Six's glance.

"Not at all." Number Six gave a small shake of his head "I just couldn't help but notice your recent comradeship with Number Seventy"

"He's a nice, old gentleman."

"And a hardened conspirator." Six returned.

"I don't know what you're getting at." The younger man began to play with the lining of his blue jacket.

"And then there was the incident at the town hall."

"I thought you hated it here, Number Six." Eighty-nine felt his lower jaw clenching.

"Yes, yes." Number Six leaned back slightly in his seat, his hands finding the pockets of his dark jacket.

"Then why object?"

"No, I...I just don't think mass murder is the right way to go about it." Number Six flashed an accusing look at the young man, wondering if the report regarding the bomb was partially true.

"Then what is the right way to go about it, Number Six?"

"Escape."

"Like you did, you mean?" Eighty-nine began to pick at a prickly subject for Number Six. He'd expected to see a glint of uncertainty in the older man's eye...but he didn't. If Number Six was thrown by Eighty-nine's words he certainly didn't show it. The ice blue eyes remained as unmoving as ever. Pushing further, the younger man continued. "I heard they brought you back?"

Number Six allowed himself the tiniest of smiles. No doubt Eighty-nine had been speaking at great lengths with Number Seventy. The old man was the only person who Number Six had divulged all the details of his 'escape' to. Of how he had woken up one morning to find the Village completely deserted. Seventy had been unable to account for this. From his point of view (and no doubt from the point of view of many others), Number Six had never left the Village at all. Sometimes Number Six wondered if he truly ever did leave... And what did it matter even if he did? The powers that be extended far further than he'd ever possibly dreamed.

"I know you don't want reprisals." Eighty-nine let out a small sigh. "Neither do I... But there's nothing wrong with keeping the guardians on their toes, is there?"

"I, er...hear that this...coupling event is to take place at the town hall." Number Six finished his cup of coffee... "Are you planning a repeat performance? Another makeshift bomb?"

"I just want a date and a dance." Number Eighty-nine smiled before getting to his feet. "You should do the same. It'll do you some good, Number Six."

"Good for someone." Number Six pushed his empty cup aside before also getting to his feet and walking away.

"I'm sure I'll see you tomorrow, Number Six!" Eighty-nine called after him.

"Yes," Number Six said the word in a scathing tone, not even stopping to turn around and wish the young man good day...

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"Curfew time!" the voice of the lady announcer called out over the Village speakers. "All citizens! Fifteen minutes to curfew!"

Number Six's only response to this was to continue drumming his fingers against the stone wall he was sitting on.

He was in the middle of the Village public square, right next to the fountain. The sky was nearly pitch black now, and most people had already gone indoors. He was still mulling over the day's events. He wasn't quite sure if he would be at the town hall tomorrow night... Of course, they could always drag him there, but he truly didn't believe this would be Number Two's style. Her game was a much more subtler one, he was sure of that. Him not attending might very well be what she had in mind, though. Perhaps attending would be the smartest move. And after all, he would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that he was mildly curious about the whole affair... Before he knew it, the announcer spoke again.

"Ten minutes! Ten minutes to curfew!"

On hearing this, Number Six got to his feet and began to head back in the direction of his cottage. He only made it a few steps, though...when he heard the sound of a woman's raised voice. It was filled with anger, with genuine emotion. Any such sound in a person's voice always raised his interests in this place. Anything to signal such life in an individual always made him intrigued. The next thing he heard, though...made him slightly concerned for the woman's safety.

"I said get off me!" the female voice cried out from the road just behind the Village square.

His chivalrous instincts kicking in, Number Six started to make his way towards the road. As he drew closer, he then heard a man's voice.

"Look, we have a miserable enough existence here as it is! What's wrong with us having a little fun, eh? They don't mind any more."

Number Six stepped out onto the road just in time to see the man grab hold of the woman.

"Get off me!" the thirty something, auburn haired woman exclaimed before pushing the man away from her.

The man, who was of a similar age to the woman, took a step back with a smirk on his face, his right hand running through his dark hair. He was just about to approach the woman again...when Number Six made his presence known.

"I think she's made her feelings clear." Number Six spoke in a quiet, yet authoritative tone of voice.

The man stopped in his tracks and turned to face Number Six... "Regular white knight in shining armour, eh." He looked back to the woman before then turning back to Number Six. "Guardian?"

Neither confirming nor denying, Number Six stepped towards the woman. "Are you all right?"

"I didn't ask for help," she replied sharply, clearly not trusting Number Six at all.

"Few do in this place." Even up close, Number Six didn't recognise this woman at all. She was rather striking to look at, with a fierceness in her eyes. But clearly, she wasn't a new arrival. She seemed to know this aggressive man too well. Briefly looking to the man, Number Six recognised him as Number Seventeen. A volatile, angry man who'd been in the Village for a couple of months now. Up until this moment, Number Six had believed him to be a guardian. Now he wasn't so sure.

"I don't take kindly to people putting their noses in my business." Number Seventeen took a step forward, his eyes unblinking. "In fact...I think I'm gonna break you in half!"

"Really?" Number Six raised an eyebrow, his demeanour still relaxed.

"AHHHHHHHH!" the man exclaimed before charging forward.

Sidestepping, Number Six grabbed hold of the man by his collar, before giving him a right hook on the jaw, sending Number Seventeen crashing to the ground.

"Stop it, stop it!" the woman exclaimed.

"Charlotte!" a male voice suddenly declared.

Spinning around, Number Six immediately noticed an extremely familiar face walking towards him. The face of an old friend... Number Seventy.

Leaning more heavily on his stick than usual, the older man seemed terribly out of breath, with sweat running down his brow. His eyes were dull and hollow. Evidently, hurrying over here had taken the life out of him.

As Number Six observed Seventy moving slowly towards them, he realised just how long it had been since they'd seen each other. You see, this man had not always been known as Number Seventy. He used to be Number Fourteen. Since the old man had vacated that number, many others had taken on the number of Fourteen. This odd number change had occurred after their doomed escape attempt... An escape attempt which had wrecked their budding friendship. That particular chess game had been played out so long ago now, back when Number Six was new to the Village and in need of guidance. The old man had given Number Six one of his most important lessons in separating prisoners from guardians. Ironically, though, the old man had played a rather large role in the downfall of the plan. While it was true that Number Fifty-eight (playing the role of Rook in the chess match) had been the first to fracture the plan, it was Number Seventy, the former Number Fourteen, who had then helped to convince the others, having fallen prey to his own method of discerning between prisoners and warders. And while the Number Two of that time had assured Number Six that the other prisoners would not be harmed for agreeing to this rebellious plan...that was not to be the case. All the chess pieces fell one by one, disappearing from the Village for good. The Rook, the Queen, all the pieces were replaced. Even the friendly, smiling shopkeeper was instantly replaced by a Village mole... But curiously, the old man remained. His only punishment being the removal of his number. Unfortunately, things had never been the same between them since. Number Six no longer fully trusted the old man. And the parts of him that still did could not forgive him for helping the plan to fail. And the old man could no longer trust Number Six, as a part of him still wondered if Number Six was a guardian after all... But with all that being said, on that soul crushing day on which he had been returned to the Village having made a successful escape, Number Six had turned to the older man for comfort, almost begging for some small consolation that his escape had truly happened. To his dismay...the old man could not confirm it. For him, Number Six's absence from the Village had not occurred... That had been the last time they'd ever spoken to each other...until now.

Seeing Number Seventy approaching, the woman rushed forward and threw her arms around him. "Oh, father!" she exclaimed.

Number Six furrowed his brow in slight confusion... "Father?"

"Yes." Number Seventy took a deep breath as he held his daughter close.

As the call for five minutes to curfew rang out, Number Seventeen picked himself up from the ground. "Wouldn't want to cause a ruckus for being out after hours." He snorted in the direction of Number Six. "But we're not done yet, fella. I'll be seeing you."

Number Six merely gave the man a sharp look out of the corner of his eye, the large majority of his attention still fixed on the old man and his daughter.

As Number Seventeen made his departure, Number Six took a step towards Number Seventy and the woman.

"Thank you," Number Seventy said in a solemn tone. "I saw what you did for my daughter."

Realising that she should have been more grateful, the woman, Charlotte, turned to face Number Six. "I'm sorry for the way I acted towards you."

"It's fine," Number Six practically murmured in response, all his attention now focused on Number Seventy... "It's been quite a while."

"Yes." The older man gave a small nod of his head before turning away, looking his daughter square in the eye. "Why did you run out like that? And at such an hour, as well."

"I'm sorry, father," the woman apologised. "I'm just sick to death of all this!"

"I, er...never realised you had family in the Village," Number Six remarked in a relaxed manner. "New recruit, are you?" He looked to the woman.

"No," Charlotte responded sharply. "I just keep myself to myself."

Just then, two men in striped sweaters appeared at the top of the road, their postures indicating that they were hostile in nature.

Immediately recognising one of the men as a guardian (not your hidden variety, but a downright obvious one), Number Six made to leave. "We must do this again sometime," he stated calmly.

Leading his daughter away with his free arm wrapped around her, Number Seventy looked over his shoulder to Number Six. "We better not."

"Why?" Number Six questioned, but received no reply.

Clutching tightly at his cane, the old man walked away with his daughter at his side...

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On arriving back at his cottage, Number Six made straight for a bottle of non-alcoholic whiskey. He only made it a few steps, however...when a female voice caught his attention.

"You're a couple of minutes late after curfew, you know."

Number Six let out a disgruntled sigh before slowly turning towards his TV, immediately observing the sight of Number Two sitting in her round seat within the Green Dome.

"Sorry to be prickly about it," she continued. "But such insubordination doesn't reflect well on me."

"My heart bleeds for you," Number Six said dryly.

Number Two grinned at his words. "Don't worry. I don't hold it against you."

"Well, that's a load off my mind, I must say." Number Six sarcastically returned.

"You know, I've...always had a soft spot for gallant men." Number Two bit her lower lip while studying Number Six intently...

"I'm touched," Number Six spoke with blatant insincerity. "I see you're much like your predecessors when it comes to-"

"Observing?"

"Spying." Number Six felt the word was much more appropriate.

"Not at all." She leaned back in her seat before crossing her long legs. "My observers, on the other hand, have a job to do."

"I'm sure, I'm sure." Growing tired of this conversation, Number Six took a few steps towards the TV.

"I hear that you and that gentlemen with the cane were once rather close," Number Two remarked in a casual manner.

Refusing to rise to any bait that was on offer, Number Six stopped directly in front of the TV, eyeing her in both slight amusement and defiance.

"Probably best to steer clear of him now, though." Number Two advised. "We wouldn't want a model citizen like yourself getting mixed up in any of his wild plots now, would we?"

"Wouldn't that be something." Number Six reached towards the off button on the TV.

"It won't do any good, handsome." She teased.

"Really?" Number Six pushed the off button... Nothing happened.

"Told you so." She smiled warmly at him.

"Mm." He let out a small chuckle before suddenly raising his voice. "How about if I pull the plug?!"

"By my guest." Number Two leaned back in her seat.

Reaching behind the TV, Number Six tugged hard on the plug, pulling it out of the back of the TV... Naturally, the TV remained switched on.

Number's Two only reaction to this was to give a small smile of satisfaction.

Overcoming his confusion at this, Number Six locked eyes with the figure inside his TV... Ever so slightly affected by the gentleness of her large, brown eyes, Number Six remained still for a moment, studying her face carefully... Finally, though, he made up his mind that he'd had quite enough of this nonsense. "Fine." He walked a few steps away from the TV before picking up a poker from next to the fire. "Good night!" With one, sharp jab...the TV screen was shattered.

Allowing herself a genuine laugh, Number Two reached towards a nearby yellow phone and picked it up...

At the cottage, Number Six sat down with his bottle of non-alcoholic whiskey and poured himself a small drink. He was just about to sit back and relax, when...

"Good night, Number Six." Number Two's soft voice whispered in the air, before all the lights in the room suddenly went out...

His eyes shifting with suspicion, Number Six brought the glass to his lips... Oh yes, he could tell now for sure. This particular Number Two was going to be most interesting. He could just sense that for the first time in quite a while...he had a genuine challenge on his hands.

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Several hours later, in the control room, the Village supervisor was monitoring a sleeping Number Six.

Pacing back and forth, the bald headed man observed Number Six on the large screen. He was laid on his side, his breathing shallow and his sleep restless.

"We're picking up some interesting brain activity," a woman said at one of the control panels, the tone of her voice suggesting that she was worried that Number Six may wake up. "Shall we begin?"

"No," the supervisor responded sharply. "We are to wait for Number Two."

Right on cue, the large, steel doors at the top of the walkway opened up, and Number Two stepped into the huge room.

"Are we ready to begin?" she inquired.

"Yes, Number Two," the supervisor confirmed.

"Good." She quickly made her way down the steps, her gaze turning towards the large screen... Stopping for a moment next to the supervisor, she studied Number Six for a few moments before announcing... "Stage two."

"Two?" The supervisor turned towards her, his face expressing rare shock. "But I understand that-"

"He can take it." Number Two took a small step forward.

"Yes, but...you know how important he is."

"Trust me." Number Two let out a deep breath. "We won't get anywhere unless we make a strong start to this."

"I just-"

"Don't!" Number Two cast her gaze to the floor, her expression troubled... "Just do it."

"Of course, Number Two." The supervisor looked to the screen before declaring in a loud voice. "Stage two!"

On the screen, in Number Six's cottage, the Prisoner turned onto his back, just in time for the light hanging above his head to begin pulsating. Brighter and brighter it shone. It carried on like this for several minutes before...finally...the light began to descend. It lowered and lowered until it was almost covering Number Six's face...

"Let's see how strong his resolve is in the morning," Number Two remarked to herself. "Is everything ready?" She turned to the bald headed man standing beside her.

"Yes, Number Two." The supervisor afforded himself a small sigh. He'd been in this position many times prior. He'd seen so many Number Two's come and go. And truth be told...he saw no reason why Number Six wouldn't be able to hold out once again... But this Number Two certainly had determination to her. Who knows, maybe she would be the one to finally crack the Village's most famous rebel.

"Excellent." Number Two gave a small clap of her hands before making her way back up the steps and leaving the room, already feeling excited to see how Number Six would behave in the morning.

* * *

**(A/N). And so we come to the end of the chapter. Just a quick FYI. I will be starting work as a temporary/casual worker for Royal Mail tomorrow. I'll be working right until the day before Christmas Eve and then maybe even a few days more in the Christmas holidays. So what does this mean for my story? It means that I won't be able to upload the next chapter until just before Christmas. I'll make sure that I get something uploaded before the big day, but I can't promise that it will be a long chapter, as I won't have much free time on my hands.**

**Right, I suppose that's everything. Take care and thanks for reading.**

**Be seeing you.**


	3. A New Maid

**(A/N). Hello there. Hope you're all doing okay. I know it's been almost a month since the last chapter was uploaded, but I've just been so busy with work and getting things ready for the holiday season. **

**Anyway, enough chatter from me. On with the chapter!**

* * *

Morning...

Letting out a small, barely audible groan...Number Six slowly opened his eyes... He allowed himself a small stretch before raising his head from the pillow. The first thing that caught his attention, as he gazed into the living room, was the sight of a brand new TV... At least he thought it was new. It was entirely possible they'd fixed the screen overnight. After all, nothing was impossible in this place...

Swinging his feet off the side of the bed, Number Six slowly got to his feet and put on his dressing gown that was sprawled across the bottom of the bed. He'd only just managed to tie it when he heard a sound from the bathroom.

"You're awake, then!"

Spinning around, Number Six came face to face with a blonde haired woman. She was medium sized, around mid 20s in age and extremely pretty. Her green eyes stood out like emeralds as she approached him. It was only when she was almost upon him that Number Six actually processed the fact that she was wearing a maid's outfit.

"Good morning." She raised her feather duster slightly and began to play with it in her hands.

"The labour exchange send you?" Number Six felt his fingers twitching again.

"Of course." She puckered her lips in a seductive manner. "They felt your place needed a quick tidy up."

"How thoughtful of them." Pushing his way past her, Number Six made his way towards the bathroom. "I suppose they let you in on my...track record with the previous maids."

"Oh, but they didn't have my understanding nature," she replied in a playful tone as she trailed after him. "But yes. They did let me know that they never lasted long."

"And you think that you'll be the exception, yes?" On turning back around to face her, he couldn't help but notice the tightness of her outfit. This figure hugging attire was far more provocative than anything else he'd ever seen a woman wearing before in this place.

"I'll, er...leave you to get yourself ready." She began to stroke the handle of the feather duster. "I'll be back soon, though, don't worry."

"Why!?" he snapped.

"You'll see." And with that, she skipped away, quickly hurrying towards the front door which obligingly swung open for her.

Ordinarily, he'd have screamed at the top of his lung by now and she would be gone for good. But for some strange, alien reason, he hadn't. A certain part of his...anatomy had enjoyed the fact that she'd been there, and that was very strange for him... Slightly confused by all this, Number Six closed the door to his bathroom, hoping to be fully back to normal after a good cold shower...

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Now fully dressed, Number Six had just finished off his breakfast when he heard the sound of his front door opening again. Intending to head her off quickly, he hurried towards the front room.

"Here we are!" the new maid declared cheerily, as she held out a box in her arms.

Number Six didn't say anything. He just looked at her and then at the box in slight confusion.

"Special clothes for the event tonight." She placed the box down on the small sofa. "I'm told it's a tuxedo."

"Charming." He flashed a tight, angry smile.

"Looking forward to it, then?"

"Every ounce of my being." He practically growled, angry with himself for being distracted once more by her tight outfit.

"You're acting hostile again," she spoke the words in a teasing manner before slowly approaching him... "Don't you realise? Things have changed now. They only want you to be happy."

"They?" He narrowed his eyes.

"Believe it or not, this is just a job to me," she stated. "I'm not one of them."

"No one ever is." Number Six started to make his way towards the front door. For him, naturally, it didn't open by itself. "Your services are not required here."

"Really?" She smiled slightly. "So does that me you're declining all of the services that I'm offering?" She skipped towards him, her hands behind her back... "It's been a long time for you, hasn't it?"

Uncomfortable beyond words, Number Six looked to the door, practically demanding her to leave without actually being able to say so. The words just wouldn't form in his mouth.

"Do you really want me to leave?" she whispered... "Or do you want me to stay and help you try on your new suit?"

"Get out." He managed to mumble.

"Ha." She grinned. "Unfortunately for you, Number Six...your mouth can lie but your body can't." Reaching down, her right hand hovered over the top of his trousers.

Finally summoning up enough strength, Number Six grasped at the door handle before flinging it open. "GET OUT!" he yelled.

Her resolve quickly crumbling, the young woman almost jumped out of her skin before quickly hurrying out the door.

Angry with himself more than her, Number Six slammed the door shut before beginning to pace up and down... Finally, after a couple of minutes had passed, he regained his composure. Taking a few deep breaths, the Prisoner opened his front door before stepping out into the warm sunshine...

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That evening, the night of the coupling event had arrived. After much deliberation, Number Six had finally decided to attend, having found no satisfactory reason why he shouldn't play along with their little game for now.

Having donned his tux, Number Six had left his cottage only to be greeted with the sight of a taxi, personally ordered by Number Two to bring Number Six to the town hall.

After a fairly quiet, short journey, they arrived at the town hall. It was extremely busy, with people coming and going in large quantities (even some people from the old folks home were in attendance). All the men were dressed in tuxedos while all the women were wearing fine, if slightly old fashioned frocks.

On exiting the taxi, Number Six decided to hang back and wait for everyone to get inside. He wasn't surprised by the vast amount of people that had decided to attend. So many residents merely did as they were told like mindless puppets... Eventually, after everyone was inside, Number Six began to approach the entranceway. He was just about to go inside when he sensed a familiar presence behind him. Turning around, Number Six came face to face with Number Seventy.

Leaning heavily on his stick, the older man looked at Number Six with almost pleading eyes.

Just knowing that something serious was wrong, Number Six began to approach him. He only made it a few steps, however...when a piercing roar filled the air.

Clutching tight at his cane, the old man looked on as a large, white orb came bounding around the corner. The Village's ultimate, and most powerful guardian. Rover. And as it came rolling closer towards him, Number Seventy found his inner resolve ebbing away. Finally, he retreated as fast as his legs could carry him.

Number Six was both saddened and astonished by the sight. It was the old man's fearlessness in Rover that had first led Number Six to him. And now he'd been reduced to this. Shrinking out of sight and clearly terrified of the guardian.

Bouncing up and down slightly, the guardian edged closer towards Number Six.

The Prisoner was just about to advance forward when Rover floated directly in front of him and roared once again, as though daring him to take another step forward...

Realising that he couldn't win this fight, Number Six turned away from the guardian and began to head indoors. He was slightly startled to see Number Two coming out the door to meet him. She was wearing a beautiful, long, flowing crimson gown. Her hair was tied up and her make up superbly applied.

"Good evening, Number Six." She bowed her head slightly to him.

"Good evening," Number Six returned. "I, er...see you've resorted to force after all, then." He motioned his head in the direction of Rover.

"Not at all," she responded.

"Ah." Number Six smiled slightly before outright nodding towards the guardian.

"It has some sentience of its own, you know."

Number Six's face twitched ever so slightly upon hearing this rather fascinating piece of information. "You're just full of interesting little tidbits, aren't you? Do your masters approve?"

"Come on." She offered him her arm. "Let's go inside."

Number Six looked at Rover one last time before taking Number Two's arm and walking inside the town hall.

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**(A/N). And so ends this rather short chapter. I'm sorry it's shorter than the previous chapters, but as I said at the beginning of this chapter, I have been so very busy.**

**I'd just like to wish you all a very Merry Christmas and hope you and your families all have a wonderful time. See you in 2020.**

**Happy holidays everyone!**


	4. The Dance

**(A/N). Hello everyone. Welcome back to my Prisoner fan fic. As always, thanks to all those who are reading and supporting this story.**

**Okay then, on with the chapter!**

* * *

"No more for me, thank you." Number Six declined a refill of his glass. He did slightly appreciate the fact that real liquor was being served here, but he wasn't prepared to have any more than two glasses in this place.

Number Six had been here for just over two hours now. The whole affair was rather strange to behold. The night's festivities had begun after Number Two had made a brief address to the gathered guests, gently encouraging them to embrace the theme of love on this night. Following the order like the little lemmings they are, everyone had started to seek out an ideal mate. But in well over ninety-percent of the cases, this was carried out without any real emotion at all. It was merely just another order to be obeyed.

A small part of Number Six had dared to dream that such a thing as intimacy just might rouse them from their slumbers, to shake them free of the restraints of the Village. Unfortunately, though...it was not to be. The few times in which he'd forced himself to speak with women, he'd been met with nothing but robotic responses.

Now beyond tired of this scene, Number Six was on the verge of leaving... In fact, he was just about to make for the exit, when...

"Enjoying yourself?" Number Two emerged from behind a corner, holding her venetian mask up on a stick, covering her eyes with it.

"I'm leaving," was all Number Six said in response.

"Oh, so soon." She pouted.

Casting his gaze towards Number Two, Number Six couldn't help but be slightly enthralled by the sight of her. Even though she was a mature woman, she was still very striking. Her luscious, red lips, soft brown eyes and high cheekbones (which were amplified by the eye mask and subtle amounts of glitter on the edge of her face). It all played its part in making her look so very beautiful...

Lowering her eye mask, Number Two thinned her lips into a small smile. "Trust me when I say you've been through the worst of it."

"Somehow I very much doubt that."

"I mean it." Her smile widened slightly. "It's almost time for the band to begin playing." She looked over in the direction of some men and women, all of them holding onto various musical instruments. "There's nothing like a soft waltz to bring people together, eh, Number Six?"

Number Six gave a small roll of his eyes, still wondering whether or not he should continue to play her little game for now.

"And besides, I can't let you leave here as lonesome as when you arrived." Number Two spoke the words in a soft, friendly tone... "You know what I think your problem is?"

"Do tell."

"You're a little...shy, aren't you?"

"Well, I have been bitten many times." He cleverly turned her choice of word against her.

"I'm being serious, you know." She turned around and began pointing out some single, female guests. "Many of them have been trying to catch your eye, you know." She turned back towards him. "You're a handsome, charming, enigmatic fellow, Number Six. You could have your pick... How about your new maid, for example?"

"Predictable." He shot Number Two a glare.

"Or Number Thirteen."

"Thirteen?" Number Six lifted a full glass of wine from a passing tray (deciding he would chance that third drink after all).

"I think a part of her was rather taken with you after you aided her last night."

"Oh, you mean Charlotte?"

Number Two let out a tiny, frustrated sigh. "I may be more lax with the rules than others, but I'm not that lax. Numbers only, if you please."

"My mistake." Bored of her, Number Six started to make his way back towards the centre of the room.

"Just ask a girl for a dance, for heaven's sake, Number Six! Take your pick!"

"My pick?" He glanced at Number Two over his shoulder. "You mean I can actually choose for myself?"

"Of course!" she declared happily. "You can dance with whomever you like! No one is off limits!"

"I'll bear it in mind!" Picking up his pace in order to escape her, Number Six bumped straight into a familiar face.

"Oh, I beg your pardon." Number Eighty-nine looked horrified, his glass almost dropping to the floor. "I'm so sorry."

"It was my fault." Number Six assured the young man.

"No, no, I was the one who-" The younger man suddenly realised who it was to whom he was speaking. "Oh, Number Six!" He flashed a smile. "I saw you pacing up and down earlier but didn't get a chance to say hello."

"I'm afraid I was the cause of that." Number Six's new maid walked forward and interlocked her left arm around Eighty-nine's right arm. She was now wearing her number, the white badge attached to her blue frock.

"Number...Five?" Number Six raised a curious eyebrow. In all his time in the Village, this was the first time he'd ever encountered someone (besides the various Number Two's, of course) with a number that was lower than his own. Was that significant? Did it indicate her value of importance? In truth, all that really mattered to him was that it practically confirmed that she was one of them. Or maybe not, who knows. He couldn't help but note her amorous behaviour earlier, and now the business with her number. It all seemed a little too obvious for his liking.

Picking up on his peculiar glance, Eighty-nine looked to Number Five. "You know him?"

"I'm his new maid." She flashed a cheeky grin at both men in turn. "We had a fun time earlier, didn't we, Number Six?"

"Oh yes, she's ounces of fun." Number Six gave her a thin smile before placing a hand on Number Eighty-Nine's shoulder, gently guiding him away from her. "If you'll excuse us."

"Of course." She leaned forward and gave Eighty-nine a peck on the cheek. "He's such a darling, sweet man, isn't he?" she said to Number Six before turning her attention back towards the younger man. "Don't forget to find me for that dance, dear."

"Of course." The young man gave her a small smile before looking with uncertain eyes at Number Six...

"I see you've chosen to be fully cooperative, then." Number Six let out a disappointed sigh.

"I thought you didn't want me causing another ruckus."

"There are other ways." Number Six took a sip of his drink. "Ways that do not involve siding with...one of them."

"Look, it's as I said earlier. All I'm looking to get out of this evening is a date and a dance." Looking over the crowded room to Number Five, the younger man found himself smiling. "And any other little delights that she might be willing to offer."

"A Faustian bargain, then," Number Six remarked.

Number Eighty-nine gave a slight chuckle. "Are you suggesting that she's-" He paused, unable to remember the name of the demon who Faust had sold his soul to. "What was his name?"

"Hmm?" Number Six turned towards him.

"The demon in Faust? What was his name?"

Looking across the room and towards the ever captivating Number Two, Number Six replied. "Don't you mean her name?" Number Six finished off his drink with one, strong gulp.

As the band started to play, Eighty-nine quickly excused himself and hurried over towards Number Five.

Number Six was just about to move off the dance floor, when a hand touched his shoulder.

"Hello," Charlotte said with a smile.

"Ah, Number Thirteen." Number Six returned her smile.

"I'd prefer Charlotte."

"So would I." He allowed himself a brief glance at her becoming, figure hugging gown (quickly making a mental note of the fact that her dress was the only one that was more modern in nature). "Unfortunately, there are no names in this place. Here, you are Number Thirteen. And I...am Number Six." He let out a small, barely audible growl.

"Not tonight." She let out a wistful sigh. "Tonight...I am Charlotte. And you are?"

"A friend of your father's." He dodged her question.

"Yes." She lowered her gaze to the floor. "He's always spoken highly of you. And I am truly grateful for what you did last night."

"Your father is a good man."

"I know." Charlotte felt herself tensing up, suddenly aware of the fact that she was being watched.

"I saw him earlier." Number Six tried to keep her attention. "He seemed...troubled."

"I...I must go."

She made to leave and Number Six grabbed her right arm. "Why?"

"We're...getting in the way of the dancers."

Number Six looked around and suddenly noticed that the dancing had begun. A soft waltz was playing. "Luckily for us...we've each found the perfect partner." He made to take her hand.

"Another time." Quickly taking a step back, Charlotte left the dance floor, leaving Number Six exposed and alone...

Turning his gaze to the watchful Number Two, Number Six boldly strode over towards her...before extending his right arm towards her, bowing his head ever so slightly. "May I have the pleasure?"

"I beg your pardon?" Number Two smiled. "As the overseer here, I'm not prepared to dance... Not even with you, handsome."

"I thought you said no one was off limits?" He reciprocated her smile.

"So I did." Bested by her own choice of words, Number Two gracefully accepted Number Six's hand before stepping onto the dance floor with him...

His head held high, Number Six began to sway gently to the music. His hands were barely touching her. He was making every effort he could to keep this dance as formal as possible.

"My, my." She smiled. "We are a little rusty, aren't we?"

Number Six let out a small, overtly foppish chuckle...

Wondering why he hadn't responded with a trademark, witty retort, Number Two pushed a tiny bit harder. "Well, your plan's worked so far, Number Six. But now you've got me all to yourself for a few minutes...do you have anything to say?"

"Do you come here often?" His tone was playful.

"That's better." She smiled. "And no. Actually, this is my first time in the town hall."

"Oh, how lovely." He twirled her around to the rhythm of the music (which was steadily increasing in tempo). Observing Charlotte heading towards the exit, Number Six then remarked. "I see Charlotte is making a hasty retreat."

"Number Thirteen." Number Two reminded him in a stern, yet frisky tone of voice.

"Of course. How silly of me to regard her as a human being." Taking a step backwards, Number Six purposely nudged into a passing Number Five, her arms wrapped tightly around the back of Number Eighty-nine's neck. "I see she's doing her job well at breaking down the dissidents."

"All of them?" Number Two wondered aloud, briefly coming to a stop.

"Keep dancing." His hands tightening their grip, Number Six began to twirl Number Two away from the dance floor.

"Why don't we have one of our honest little chats, Number Six?"

"Why ever not?"

"Splendid." Number Two began to close the space between them... "How about we start by discussing your relationship with Number Eighty-nine?.. He's a smart young boy. He's got a sensible head on his shoulders."

"Quite."

"I'd hate to think he was being led astray." She gently challenged... "Perhaps if you calmed your rebellious spirit and settled down with some nice, young girl, it would work out best for everyone."

"Naturally." He smiled. "But I'm sure you don't need my help in dissuading Number Eighty-nine. I think Number Five will make you proud."

"Whatever do you mean?" Number Two suddenly feigned ignorance.

"I thought this was to be one of our more honest little chats."

"Keep dancing." Number Two slowly began to take control, guiding them back towards the centre of the room, the waltz now reaching its crescendo.

"She's rather obvious, you know." Number Six again spoke in reference to his new maid, Number Five. "Almost as though you want her to be outed."

"Oh, my dear." Number Two let out a girlish giggle. "You're far too suspicious... You get that from your father, don't you? I understand he-"

"And what about your father?" Number Six interjected, resuming control once more.

"My father?"

"Yes. A labourer with a strong sense of duty. The Great War comes around and he does his bit. I'm sure your mother joined in with the effort from home, too." Number Six narrowed his eyes. "And then you lose both of them. How old were you? Around 6 or 7, yes?"

Number Two flinched ever so slightly at his words.

"You move up in the world via some wealthy aunt or uncle." Number Six continued. "You learn more, progress faster, assimilate with the oncoming modern world...but lose your happiness in the process. But it's too late by then. The door is open, the way forward has been shown. And you, following your parents example, hold onto duty above all else. A duty which has misguided you all the way here."

Completely silent, Number Two looked at Number Six with wounded, yet astonished eyes.

"But how often, I wonder...do you wake up in the middle of the night? How often do you wonder how different your life might have been? Lacking in importance, yes, but...at least a life of genuine, real conviction. A life of happiness... That one thing you want most...is the one thing you shall never have."

Number Two was rather amazed. To be right about one or two things, yes. He was, after all, a highly trained man, capable of discerning so much from so little. But how did he know so much about her? How could he possibly know her even more than she knew herself?.. Her ego bruised and her feelings undeniably hurt, Number Two suddenly stopped dancing and gave Number Six a slight shove...

Looking around, Number Six realised that the music had now stopped playing...and all eyes were fixed on him...

"The dance is over," Number Two said coldly.

"No." With a shake of his head, Number Six walked past her. "I'm sure the dance is only just beginning."

As the band started its next, more lively piece of music, Number Two looked on as Number Six straightened his cuffs before heading straight for the exit...

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Upon leaving the town hall, Number Six stepped out into the night air, his fingers clicking on his right hand... It was rather unusual being out after hours.

It was a beautiful night. There was not a single cloud in the sky. As Number Six gazed upward, he observed the vast amount of stars, and a full moon which was illuminating the whole Village. Everything seemed so romantic. It was as though the cosmos itself had bent to the Village's will in order to make this night as magical as possible...

With a small sigh of contempt, Number Six looked forward and beheld the sight of Charlotte. She was standing right beside the statue of Atlas in the Village square, the moonlight beaming down on her. She looked absolutely beautiful. Unable to resist a strange, inner pull, Number Six found himself walking towards her. As he drew near, he noticed that she was crying...

"What do you want?" she said upon noticing him, quickly turning her face away so he would not see her tear stained green eyes.

No longer standing on his frigid formality, Number Six reached out his right hand and run it against her long, auburn hair, gently using it to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

"You shouldn't be here."

"Tell me something I don't know." Number Six briefly looked around to see if any guardians were in the vicinity.

"It doesn't matter about what you can see," she whispered. "They can hear us."

"Not from here," he replied. "See us, yes." He glanced to a nearby camera. "But they can't hear us."

The young woman looked around with uncertainty for a few moments. Eventually, she spoke. "I...I don't know what to say."

"How about the truth," Number Six responded. "What is it that you're afraid of?"

"Them, of course."

"Yes, of course... But why?"

"It's my father." Charlotte turned away from Number Six, her gaze turning back towards the statue. "He's planning something with the young man."

"Eighty-nine?"

"Yes." She gave a small nod. "If they succeed...it will spell disaster for everyone here. And if they fail, well...it will still be bad for my father."

Number Six didn't seem surprised by all this. He knew the old man had been planning something fresh with Eighty-nine. Even so, things were progressing faster than he'd anticipated. At least he understood now why Number Five's interest had shifted towards Number Eighty-nine. Clearly, the new Number Two didn't like the idea of dissidents rocking the boat. Especially not while the coupling programme was in full swing.

"My father will listen to you. I realised that last night after I'd met you."

"Did you know he was going to try and approach me tonight?"

"Yes." She confirmed in a quiet voice. "He mentioned it last night."

"Well, before I speak to him I'll need to know a little more." Number Six tried to move a little closer towards her when she pulled away.

"Not now." She cast her gaze to the ground. "I need to speak with him one more time first. I'll get all the information I can. Goodnight." And just like that, she was gone, disappearing across the Village green...

Looking around once again, Number Six this time felt a presence. Someone was watching him... He only made it a few steps when the person made their presence known, Number Seventeen bursting through the nearby bushes.

"Oi!", the dark haired man exclaimed, as he rushed out in front of Number Six, causing the Prisoner to raise his hands in anticipation of an attack.. Coming to a sudden stop, the greasy looking man looked Number Six up and down in disgust. "I know what your game is."

"Do you?" Number Six returned in a calm, confident tone.

"Number Thirteen." The black haired man motioned his head in the direction she'd trailed off in. "Trying to win her favour, eh?.. Well I know. And I'll be watching you."

"Haven't you got the message yet?" Number Six raised a quizzical eyebrow. "I thought she'd made her lack of interest in you clear last night. If you want female company, that's the place to go." He gestured his right hand towards the town hall... "No tuxedo?" He observed that the man was wearing a standard Village outfit.

"Oh yeah." He nodded... "But I'm not like you, Number Six. I don't jump when they tell me to."

"Good for you." Tired of the man, Number Six began to walk in the direction of his cottage.

"But I know what the old man's up to," Seventeen said, immediately piquing Number Six's interest, the Prisoner coming to a quick stop before turning around to face him. "Tell her if she doesn't want me to report on it to the guardians...she'll be a bit nicer to me."

Suddenly feeling inflamed, Number Six made to strike the man, causing him to jump back with a manic grin on his face.

"Touched a nerve, eh?" He chuckled.

"Careful, friend... Those who play with fire-" Number Six paused and looked towards the green dome. "tend to get burned." He gave the man the Village salute before walking away. "Be seeing you."

"You can count on it," the man returned before trailing off...

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That night in the green dome, Number Five (now wearing a trouser suit) and Number Two walked through the steel doors and into the main room.

"A pleasant evening, wasn't it?" Number Five remarked.

"Quite." Number Two let out a lengthy sigh, as the large, round chair in the centre of the room rose from the floor.

"I thought things went rather well."

"You managed to shake the young man off, then?" Number Two sat down in her chair.

"Eventually." Number Five smiled. "I think he was slightly disappointed that he didn't get anything beyond a kiss on the cheek, though."

"Do you think he'll go through with the old man's plan?"

"Maybe," Number Five replied. "But I think it will be harmless. It's just another way of them stinging us into awareness. To see if we're still on the ball."

"Yes," Number Two spoke in a slightly disinterested tone, using her umbrella to switch on the large screen, a picture of Number Six's cottage immediately appearing. After pressing another button, the view switched to the interior. Number Six was sound asleep in his bed.

"I suppose he's still my main assignment?"

"Of course." Number Two confirmed before picking up a yellow phone from the desk... "Supervisor?" she said on making contact. "Yes, I'm here now." She took a deep breath before speaking her next words... "Stage five."

Number Five rose her eyebrows in slight shock.

"Trust me...he can take it." Number Two assured the supervisor. "Yes, I'll...I'll be along in a short while." With that said, she put the phone back down on the desk.

"Why the rush? Why stage five already?" Number Five couldn't help but wonder.

"He can handle it," Number Two responded, her tone slightly distracted. "The more we hold back, the more chance he has to discover what's happening to him... And besides, we need quick results." She looked down to the large, curved red phone, hidden from clear sight underneath the desk.

"Am I to go to him tomorrow?"

Number Two avoided eye contact, her right hand running across her brow. Finally, she responded... "Yes. And pull out all the stops this time. Make sure you leave him thoroughly...aroused."

"Certainly, Number Two." Number Five smiled at the very idea.

On the screen, the light above Number Six's head began to descend, just as it had done the previous night.

"You know it really is remarkable," Number Five remarked. "To increase a man's libido so far beyond its limits... To stretch him with such desire as to break him in his mind." She snickered.

"You think that's all there is to it!" Number Two snapped.

Startled by this, Number Five stared in astonishment at Number Two.

"I'm sorry." Number Two immediately realised her error. "It's just...I don't want you to be in the dark, that's all."

"What do you mean?"

"The love impulse." Number Two explained. "His capacity for emotional connection is also being enhanced. Stage five is what will bring this about."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that...he won't be able to resist." Number Two looked to the screen, the light now completely covering Number Six's face.

"Hypnosis?"

"Not exactly." Number Two wiped her brow once again. "This will develop more organically."

"How extraordinary." Number Five looked extremely impressed. "Artificial love... Surely I am not the target?" All of a sudden she seemed worried.

"No." Number Two put the younger woman's fears to rest... "I have another girl in mind for that."

"Good." Number Five let out a relived sigh.

Number Two suddenly leaned back in her seat before swirling it to the side. "That will be all, Number Five. Inform them in control that I'll be there shortly."

"Very well, Number Two." Number Five gave a polite bow of her head before walking up the ramp and making her exit through the steel doors...

Now alone, Number Two gave a slight shake of her head, annoyed with herself for feeling ever so slightly confused... Everything had seemed so clear just a few hours ago. Everything had felt right and just... But now she wasn't so sure any more. Number Six's words had wounded her deeper than she'd first thought. Memories of her mother and father were stirring. What would they make of all this? What would they make of the Village, for that matter? In fact...did it matter? Really? It was too late for anything of consequence to be changed. Those choices, those decisions had been made so long ago now...

As though reading the conflict within her...the red phone underneath the desk began to stir, its alarm like ring piercing through the air, calling out to the woman currently watching over it...

Observing the phone with uncertain eyes, Number Two finally reached down and picked it up... "Yes, sir." She felt her body tensing.

The voice on the other end of the receiver was surprisingly calming in its tone. It made its feelings known regarding this complicated plan before awaiting her vital response.

"I know that, sir." She swallowed hard... "But yes. I do admit that I am progressing faster and farther than my mandate..." She awaited the response with bated breath...

Eventually, after what seemed like an age...the response came.

"Thank you, sir." She exhaled... "Of course, with the utmost care."

With nothing more to be said, the voice fell silent...

Putting the phone down on the desk, Number Two looked back to the screen with newfound strength in her brown eyes. Her resolve now stronger than ever, she leaned back in her seat, her gaze cold as she observed the light pulsating over Number Six's head... "Let the dance go on," she whispered to herself with a smile.

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**(A/N). And so ends another chapter. As always, thanks for your support.**

**Take care and all the best.**

**Until next time...be seeing you.**


	5. Love's Soft First Touches

**(A/N). Well, hello again, and welcome to the next chapter of my Prisoner fan fic. As always, thanks for the support.**

**Well, no point in me babbling on. Let's start the next chapter.**

* * *

Pain. That was the first thing Number Six felt as he opened his eyes. He had a terrible headache... Surely those three measly drinks from last night hadn't gotten the better of him? Before he had time to begin piecing his thoughts together...he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Good morning!" a female voice declared in a loud, cheery tone.

Spinning around, Number Six grabbed hold of the woman before throwing her down onto the bed next to him, his eyes bulging in shock.

"Well!" Number Five let out a seductive, breathless sigh. "You are certainly more forward today, aren't you?"

Greeted by the sight of her ample, practically fully exposed bosom directly in his face, Number Six turned away, slowly getting to his feet. Well, he was getting to his feet...until his new maid dragged him back down onto the bed.

"Don't go!" She nestled in closer to him. "I wore this outfit for you today especially." She started to run her fingers through his hair and down the back of his neck.

"I'm not interested," Number Six growled (all the while perfectly aware that a certain part of his anatomy was protesting against the words coming out of his mouth).

"I told you yesterday," she spoke in a sing song tone of voice. "Your body doesn't lie." She breathed into his right ear.

Number Six didn't know what was happening to him. All he knew was that if he stayed on the bed much longer he wouldn't be able to control himself at all. It was as though he was possessed by some other, highly sexed individual. His iron will suddenly regaining control, Number Six looked her in the eye. "You don't seem to be getting the hint, do you?"

"Well...neither do you." She bit at her lower lip, her eyes almost pleading with him.

"I made my feelings clear yesterday." Getting to his feet, Number Six pointed his left hand towards his front door. "None of your...services are required here."

"Don't you understand?" She quickly got to her feet. "I need you."

"And what about darling, sweet Number Eighty-nine?"

"He's a boy." She giggled before drawing him close once more. "I like men."

Now fully in control of his newfound urges, Number Six narrowed his eyes. "You will not find what you seek here... Go back and tell her that." He took a few steps forward before motioning once again towards the front door.

With a scowl on her face, Number Five slowly made her way towards the front door (making sure to wiggle her hips as she walked down the small flight of steps). It swung open for her just as it had done the previous day. "If you do change your mind, don't worry... I'll be the first to know." Casting one, last, seductive smile in his direction, Number Five made her exit...

Frustrated beyond measure, Number Six picked up the feather duster she'd left behind before throwing it across the room. Just then...

"Good morning, good morning, good morning!" the radio spoke, sending Number Six into a rage.

Marching towards the radio, Number Six looked at it with inflamed eyes.

"Congratulations on yet another day!"

Unable to take any more, Number Six threw the radio to the floor before literally jumping up and down on it. He was finally brought back to his senses by the sound of the door opening. He spun around to face it. "I told you to-" Number Six fell silent on seeing Number Seventy standing right outside the door, his face a mask of shock.

"Number Six?" the old man said softly.

"Yes, good morning." Immediately returning to a calm state, Number Six put his right hand to his still throbbing head before slowly walking down the flight of steps and towards the door. "Just er...letting off a little steam."

"So I gathered." Number Seventy looked past Number Six and towards the smashed radio.

"Would you care for some breakfast?" Number Six motioned for him to come in.

"No, I...I can't stay." The older man looked over his shoulder furtively.

"I think we need to talk."

"Yes." The old man agreed. "But not now."

"When?"

"Later," Seventy replied. "At my place." Saying no more than that, the old man trailed off...

Number Six was just about to close his door when the flower lady walked past, clearly getting ready for her morning rounds. She was a young, pretty Japanese girl who Number Six was slightly fond of. She seemed genuinely innocent and had been here almost as long as he had.

"Good morning, Number Six." She smiled at him.

"Yes, good morning." Number Six smiled at her.

"How are we feeling today?"

Unable to control himself, Number Six briefly found himself ogling her beautiful features... "All the better for seeing you, my dear." He grinned, his eyes narrowing with unbridled lust.

"Why, Number Six." She lowered her head coyly.

Quickly snapping back to himself, Number Six suddenly slammed the door shut before looking to the nearby wall in horror... He knew something had happened to him. He just knew it. He wasn't sure what, why or how, but he was determined to work it out... His head still throbbing, Number Six rubbed his forehead once more before walking back up the steps, heading to have a good, cold shower.

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Later that day, Number Six was lurking outside Number Seventy's residence. He'd been waiting in the same spot for almost twenty minutes now, trying to find enough composure to actually announce his presence. He wasn't quite sure why he was hesitating. For one thing he felt...sullied. Throughout his daily routine he'd been finding it increasingly hard to stop himself from having thoughts of an...intimate nature. In fact, half the time, he'd been stopping himself from ogling women.

He knew they'd done something to him. He knew this just wasn't him. He'd always considered himself to be rather asexual in nature. Of course, he still had some urges from time to time. He was only human. But they were always minimal in nature. The fact he couldn't be easily swayed by a woman's charms had saved his life more than once in his colourful past. In fact, his low libido was one of his greatest strengths. But now...they'd taken that away from him... Or had they? Try as he might, Number Six could find no evidence on his body of any form of tampering. The only thing that stood out was his headache. Could that be of significance?

"Do you intend to stand there all day?" a voice suddenly spoke up.

Looking up, Number Six saw Number Seventy at his upper window.

"Come on in." He pointed down to the door. "It's open."

Quietly stepping forward, Number Six paused for a moment as the door opened by itself for him... Stepping inside, Number Six looked around to see if they were alone.

"Nobody's here," Number Seventy said as he walked down the steps and into the living room. "I was waiting for you to come in. What were you doing out there?"

"Just thinking," Number Six replied as he looked around.

"About what?"

Number Six continued to observe the room.

"No audio devices here." Number Seventy revealed.

"You quite sure about that?"

"I took care of them a long time ago." Number Seventy set his cane aside before sitting down on a chair, the old man letting out a small groan as he did so.

"And they never replaced them?" Number Six seemed dubious.

"You know I was never important enough."

"Then why are you still here?" Number Six wondered... "The others from our doomed little venture weren't so lucky, were they. The other pieces on the board."

"We've been through this before." Number Seventy let out a sigh. "I don't know why they kept me alive... Sometimes I wish they hadn't."

"What's this all about?" Number Six sat down opposite the man... "Your daughter's concerned about you."

"Charlotte?" The old man looked towards the floor, doing his best to avoid Number Six's piercing gaze... "She shouldn't be here."

"She's here because of you, isn't she?" A question, yes, but basically an all but confirmed fact in Number Six's mind.

"She doesn't know about this."

"Really? Can you be sure of that?" Number Six challenged. "About you and the young man."

"Eighty-nine has nothing to do with this!"

"Then why am I here?!" Number Six declared.

"Because I don't know how much more time I have left!" the old man practically yelled in response, silencing Number Six... "I...I need to ask you a favour."

"Go on."

"I need you to...watch over Charlotte for me." Number Seventy finally found the strength to meet Number Six's gaze. "You must promise me."

"You don't have to do this." Number Six gave a small shake of his head. "It won't work. It won't change anything."

"What?" The old man seemed confused.

"I think we can put all our cards on the table now." Number Six got to his feet. "What is it? An attack against the guardians? A place, a building? Number Two herself?!"

"No!" Number Seventy let out a hoarse cough.

"Charlotte believed you were trying to rope me into your scheme, do you know that?" Number Six spoke in a soft, almost disappointed tone. "Does she know that you're planning to die for this cause!"

"You don't understand!" Mustering all the strength he could, the old man got to his feet. "You're different, Number Six! Different to all the others! You're so important to them, I sometimes wonder if the whole Village was constructed for your benefit! You've never bought into their lies, their schemes! Don't start now! See through it!"

Realising that something more was at stake here than just the old man's life, Number Six narrowed his eyes... "Then tell me."

"I...I can't." His strength ebbing away, the old man reached for his cane. "Just...promise me. Promise me you will look after her. And promise me that she will never know that I asked you to do this for me."

"All right." Number Six assured him. "I'll watch over her... Now how about you tell me what's really going on here."

Number Seventy opened his mouth ever so slightly, as if about to say something... On hearing the sound of his front door opening, however, he quickly fell silent.

"Number Six?" Charlotte's facial expressions were a mixture of delight and confusion as she stepped inside. Her tone uncertain, she then asked. "Have you two been...having a nice chat?"

"Yes, dear." The old man leaned forward and gave his daughter a peck on the cheek. "We were just talking about-" He stalled.

"About the art of...reading between the lines." Number Six forced a smile.

"Yes." Now looking concerned, the old man trudged off towards his bedroom. "If you'll...excuse me, dear. I'm...feeling rather tired."

"Of course, father. You get some rest." The auburn haired woman watched as her father stepped into his bedroom before closing the door behind him. When she felt it was safe, she turned towards Number Six. "Well? Did you manage to talk him out of it?"

"Not exactly." Number Six sat down on the nearby settee... "When did your father first start acting like this?"

"A few weeks ago," she responded before sitting down next to him. "Although he's been a little off ever since the town hall incident."

"Was he behind it?"

"Not directly." She shook her head. "It was the other man. Number Eighty-nine."

"I see. And you're certain your father had nothing to do with it?"

"I'm telling you all that I know," she responded sternly.

Number Six stared off into the distance, his mind working overtime... Finally, he looked back towards her. "If that is truly the case...why are you here, Number Thirteen?"

"Why?" She let out a deep breath before looking away... "I'm here because of my father?"

"In what way?"

"Because I'm his daughter, of course." She seemed to give a half smile at the absurdity of the question.

"If the loved ones of everyone here were brought along as well, then this place would be filled to the rafters by now." Believing that there had to be more to it, Number Six gave her a knowing look...

"Look, my...my family has always been a source of discomfort to me rather than comfort." Charlotte let out a sigh, as though regretting saying those words the moment they left her mouth. "I love them all, I do. Especially my father, but...the nature of his work. His position, his title. It all caused problems during my young adult years."

"Yes, I'm sure as the daughter of a Count you had it very hard." Number Six couldn't resist a jibe.

"There's a little more to it than that." Charlotte's tone suggested a shade of anger.

"Well why don't you spare us both the heartbreaking tale and get to the point."

"The point...is that I knew what had happened to my father. And I knew where he was."

"You were going to blow the whistle on them and they pounced?"

"Yes," she confirmed. "So now you see.. It is because of my father that I'm here. I'm not like you, or any of the people here. I never worked in a top position, for a government. I'm just a daughter trying to take care of her father. That's all I've ever been."

"And your mother?"

"Dead." Charlotte averted her eyes away from Number Six. "He's all I have left in the world now. And I'm not going to let him throw his life away in a stupid act of rebellion!" She suddenly got to her feet in frustration.

"Your father insists that he isn't planning anything."

"And you believe him?"

"Maybe." Number Six let out a slight groan as he also got to his feet. "You keep a watch on your father and I'll try and dissuade Number Eighty-nine. That is, of course, if Number Five hasn't dissuaded him already." His fresh, sexually liberated mind couldn't help but cause him to give a tiny smile on thinking of her.

"Ah, the buxom blonde from the party last night?"

"That's the one." Number Six pinched his nose, once again grappling to keep control of his wandering thoughts.

"I don't know about you, but I found that whole sorry affair sickening last night." Charlotte folded her arms in annoyance at the thought of it. "Such blatant attempts at trying to force people to change overnight. Do you have any idea just how successful that thing was? Everyone seems to be walking around in a loved up daze."

"I...I can't say I've noticed." Number Six's hands found the pockets of his black blazer.

"Well, you must have been walking around with your eyes closed. Can't these people see that they're being controlled?"

"Brainwashed beyond all hope, I'm afraid." Feeling that it was time to leave, Number Six began to head for the front door. Unconsciously, though...his right arm draped across Charlotte's shoulder, as though leading her with him.

Picking up on this, Charlotte gave a tiny smile. "I suppose we could fix them by coupling up with each other."

"Hmm?" Number Six's face expressed confusion, his thoughts suddenly becoming hazy.

"At least I can trust you." As they reached the door, it once again opened automatically. "I can, can't I?" She smiled mischievously at him.

"I...I wouldn't be so certain." His mind and body once again feeling alien to him, Number Six furrowed his brow, his headache crashing back with a vengeance.

"We'll see." She grinned more broadly now... "Why don't we do something tomorrow, just the two of us? I'm sure my father's not going to try anything that soon."

"I...suppose not." Number Six finally regained his composure.

"We could go out for a meal, a swim, maybe to the cinema? Make the most of our luxurious prison for one day."

His thoughts were clear now. Number Six knew exactly what he was saying when he responded, so he couldn't blame his answer on lack of comprehension. And yet he opened his mouth and actually said the word... "Yes." He smiled at her. "Why not?" And he meant it. It would be good to try and get her mind off her father, and it would also help him to try and get some more information out of her. Perhaps she knew more things about the inner workings of this place than she was letting on. And also...he would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that he enjoyed her company...

"Good." Charlotte smiled. "We'll meet in the Village square at noon tomorrow. Is that all right?"

"Fine," Number Six replied in a soft tone of voice. "I'll...be seeing you."

"Be seeing you." She gave him a wink before stepping back inside, the door closing behind her...

Cocking his head in slight amusement at the prospect of tomorrow's date, Number Six turned around just in time to see an angry face staring back at him.

"Been having a nice little chat with another young, attractive woman, eh, Number Six?" Number Eighty-nine puffed out his chest, his right fist clenched as though ready to strike.

"I beg your pardon?" Number Six looked at the young man in total bewilderment.

"Oh, don't play innocent with me." Eighty-nine looked at Number Six in disgust. "I wondered why Number Five started to go cold on me after the dancing was over. It was because you'd left, that's why. She was putting on a show for you! To make you jealous!"

"I'm sorry, I don't quite follow you." Number Six started to walk away from the young man.

Following, he continued. "And now I find out that she spent the night with you!" he accused. "And after trying to make me feel guilty. Hypocrite."

"Whoever told you your information is a liar!" Number Six rounded on the younger man.

"Of course, of course." Number Eighty-nine sneered. "Anyone but you, eh. The great Number Six... Well, it looks like you were the one to make the Faustian bargain after all, not me." With nothing more to say, Number Eighty-nine headed for Number Seventy's door.

"I don't think that's a very good idea." Number Six hurried back and blocked the door. "He's sleeping."

"Get out of my way."

"Whatever you're planning, keep the old man out of it."

"I don't take orders from you! Or anyone!" he yelled up to the sky above him before turning away... "I'll go. But I'll be back later." He started to walk away before remarking over his shoulder. "Don't speak to me again, Number Six."

As he watched Eighty-nine walk away, Number Six felt a growing anger inside him. Before he knew it, his gaze turned towards the green dome in the distance... Mere seconds later, his feet were carrying him towards it.

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**(A/N). And so we reach the end of another chapter. As always, thanks for the support.**

**Until next time...**

**Be seeing you.**


	6. A Painted Masterpiece

**(A/N). Hello again. Welcome back to my Prisoner fan fic. As always, thanks for the support. It means a lot.**

**Okay, on with the chapter.**

* * *

The journey towards the green dome was anything but pleasant. Once again, Number Six was finding it hard to keep hold of his true self. He kept being replaced by this new individual who resented seeing the citizens of the Village holding hands with their new significant others. Even though he knew it was false (pawns acting on orders, obeying the command of joining with another without really forming any true attachments), it did not matter to him. This new person inhabiting his mind resented it.

As his true self came back, he found himself growing more angry. His footsteps pounding, he ascended the steps leading up to Number Two's residence. On reaching the doorway, he heard the familiar dull, mechanical sound, as the door slowly opened, revealing the diminutive butler standing in the doorway.

Bowing his head to Number Six, the smartly dressed little man gestured for him to step inside.

Looking left and right with uncertain eyes, Number Six gingerly proceeded forward, suddenly feeling slightly fearful at seeing Number Two. She was a smart, strong. striking woman. Everything he was now vulnerable to... But still, Number Six possessed inner strength like no other. And calling on this, he lifted his head high as he stepped towards the steel doors. As they parted before him, he squinted slightly, as a purple light shone in his face. Moving forward, he watched as the round chair in the centre of the room slowly revolved.

Her eyes meeting with his, Number Two lifted her long legs up and placed them on the desk in an extremely relaxed manner. "Good to see you again, Number Six." She smiled. "Would you care for some tea? Or maybe even a bite to eat?"

"You can skip all that nonsense." Number Six marched forward before coming to a stop directly in front of the desk. "I'm just here for some answers, that's all."

"I thought you were aware of our policy on those." She smiled.

Leaning forward, Number Six's hands found the desk before he whispered... "What's it all about this time?"

"I'm sorry?" Her smile widened.

"The couples, the dance, the...tampering?" Lifting his right hand from the desk, Number Six touched his temple.

"Tampering? With you?" She looked him up and down. "The chance would be a fine thing." Her tone was very inviting.

Like the flicking of a switch, Number Six's true self was once again lost. This time, to Number Two herself. And all it had taken was a flirtatious word from the goddess in command herself... Unable to keep his eyes from her crossed legs, Number Six fell silent. Oh yes, once more, this alien creature in his mind had resumed control, that much was certain. But this time...this time the Prisoner had been pushed into a state of outright, brazen arousal... And oh, how his mind began to race.

Despite the fact she was a quinquagenarian, there was no denying Number Two's beauty. Number Six could only imagine the vision she must have been in her younger years... In fact, to even think that felt like heresy. If anything, her years had probably only enhanced her beauty. She was like a well preserved, painted masterpiece, with its greatness so absolute the artist had gone mad at the realisation of never achieving anything nearly as perfect ever again... And in thinking this, Number Six refused to meet her gaze, believing that his resolve may completely crumble if he caught sight of her perfect face... Unable to tear his eyes away from her legs, Number Six felt his breathing becoming more rapid, his desire growing ever stronger...

"Number Six?" Her tone of voice indicated that she knew exactly, yes exactly, what he was thinking.

Suddenly snapping back to reality, like a naughty schoolboy having been caught out, Number Six turned completely away from the desk and put his hands behind his back. "Just admiring your trousers," he remarked casually before beginning to walk towards the back of the large room, desperate for a momentary escape.

"I see." Number Two let out a tiny giggle. Refusing to let him get away so easily, she slapped a button with her left foot on the desk, causing the chair to slowly turn around by itself... Eerily, it kept the exact same pace as Number Six, as though the chair itself actually had a mind of its own.

Refusing to even look at her at all now, Number Six focused his attention on the penny farthing at the very rear of the room... "I see you had a little chat with Eighty-nine. Or did you get one of your observers to do your dirty work?"

"And why would I wish to speak to Number Eighty-nine?"

"He knew about your girl calling on me this morning," Number Six replied. "He seemed to think I'd...spent the night with her." He practically growled those last few words.

"I assure you, Number Six, it had nothing to do with me."

"And you expect me to believe that?!" On reaching the penny farthing, Number Six ran his hands across the large wheel, his back now completely turned to Number Two.

"What could I achieve by ramming a wedge between you and Eighty-nine?" Number Two seemed genuinely curious.

"Oh, you know. Keep the rebels apart and all that." Finally finding enough inner resolve and strength, Number Six turned back around to face her.

"Oh dear." Number Two couldn't stop herself from smiling... "Do you really think we're that concerned? You should know by now, Number Six. Nothing slips by us."

"That little skirmish at the town hall not so long ago...seems to suggest otherwise." Number Six challenged.

"Yes, that." She nodded in acknowledgement. "It was a real bomb, you know. But it was harmless. Badly constructed. We knew that... Of course, we could have Number Eighty-nine destroyed, but there's no point in that just yet. He's still of use."

"How so?"

"By inadvertently pointing us in the right direction." Number Two explained. "And when the time is right...we'll make our move. So you see, there's no real reason at all why I'd bother to keep you two apart."

His strength growing by the second, Number Six took a step towards her, his eyes narrowed... "You'll never win, you know."

"I told you, it's not about that with me. I only want to bring happiness and contentment to people." Number Two leaned back in her seat. "But nevertheless, I will protect this Village, Number Six." She let out a deep breath before averting her eyes from his... "It is my duty to do so."

"You destroy people!" Number Six declared, advancing forward. "Break them down in their minds! Reduce them to hollowed out husks and then expect them not to do anything about it!" he yelled.

"Do not blame me for Eighty-nine's anger!" Number Two returned in an equally fiery tone. "I have done nothing to harm him!"

"He broke, though, didn't he?!" Number Six couldn't stop himself from speaking aloud his suspicions about the young man. "He plays the part of rebel because he's angry! He's angry because of the things you did to him when he first arrived here!"

Taking genuine offence, Number Two got to her feet. "I wasn't around at the time, if you remember. I am guilty of no such crimes against him. And nor was the previous Number Two, for that matter."

"He was guilty and so are you!" Number Six declared, his clenched fists resting against the desk. "You're all guilty...because you're all the same." Regaining his composure, Number Six turned away from Number Two... And to think, for a brief, ever so brief moment in his cottage...he'd dared to think she might be a tad different to the others...

Knowing that she'd momentarily lost all of her hold over him, Number Two sat back down in her seat, feeling dejected... As she watched Number Six trudging up the ramp towards the steel doors, she desperately tried to regain some control over the situation. "Enjoy your date tomorrow!"

Number Six suddenly stopped in his tracks.

"Yes, the old man isn't as on the ball as he'd like to think he is." Number Two smiled. "We've had fresh audio devices in his house for weeks now."

Number Six let out a sigh before turning around to face her, not fully expecting this.

"But no matter about that." Number Two leaned back and put her feet on the desk again. "I'm just glad that, despite your feelings towards us, you've decided to take part in the coupling programme."

"She needed cheering up." Number Six felt his fingers twitching again. "Just a couple of people spending an afternoon together. Nothing more."

"There's no need to defend it, Number Six." She smiled at him. "I think it's lovely. There's nothing more natural than the joining of two people... I don't understand why you're fighting it."

"I know what you're planning." Number Six bluffed. "And it won't work."

"Ah, back to the accusations of...tampering, wasn't it?" Number Two teased. "Oh, let's just face facts, Number Six. You've simply had a moment of awakening, nothing more... Granted, it usually happens in adolescence, I'll admit. You must be rather...stunted, that's all... Still, better late than never, eh?" She couldn't resist a mischievous giggle.

"Yes, well, in a few days time, when all your plans come crashing down around you, you won't be laughing anymore!" The steel doors parting for him, Number Six made an angry exit.

Number Two finally stopped giggling as the doors closed behind Number Six. She had to admit to herself that she was growing slightly fond of him. But why was that?... Maybe it was because he had a way of seeking and finding the truth like no other... Suddenly, the newfound gaiety of her mood slipped away, and Number Six's accusations of her guilt came crashing back... Leaning back in her seat, Number Two became lost in sad thought...

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Stomping into his cottage like an angry bull, Number Six was shocked to find someone helping themselves to a drink of non-alcoholic scotch in his living room... "What do you want?"

"Just a drink." Number Seventeen raised the glass to his lips.

"Then I suggest you try The Cat and Mouse pub." Number Six pointed in its general direction.. Stepping forward, he dragged the half full glass out of the man's hand before setting it down on the coffee table. "Get out."

"With pleasure." Brushing against Number Six, the dark haired man made his way towards the front door. "But maybe Number Thirteen should know that you're selling out to Number Two."

"What?"

"Yeah." He turned around to face Number Six, ignoring the sound of the front door opening behind him. "I noticed you sneaking away from her place... Traitor."

Number Six briefly smiled at Number Seventeen's accusation...before the expression on his face suddenly darkened. "Keep away from Charlotte."

"Ooh, touchy." Seventeen managed to suppress a chuckle. "I guess I'm not the only admirer she has anymore... Forgotten all about your new maid now, then?"

Number Six's face expressed sudden realisation.

"Yeah, I...I had a chat with Number Eighty-nine about you and her." He grinned before stepping outside. "He didn't seem best pleased. Ta-ta." With a mocking smile and a wave, Seventeen made his exit.

Realising that Number Two might have been telling the truth about Eighty-nine after all, Number Six furrowed his brow slightly, before swiftly finishing off the half full glass of scotch...

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In the depths of the green dome, Number Two trudged away from her round, large seat, making her way towards a bottle of red wine (the alcoholic kind). She was just about to pour herself a drink when she thought on Number Six's words again... How many people had been broken in this place? How many people had been left utterly shattered, deprived of any remaining sense of self? In the case of Number Six, she could understand her masters vendetta. He was no ordinary man, by any means... But how many largely unimportant people had been sent here? How many had paid the ultimate price for merely standing by their conscience?

Letting out a small sigh, she once again went to pour herself a glass of wine, but again was interrupted. Rather than being disturbed by her own thoughts again, this time she was distracted by a blinking yellow light on the nearby control panel. Immediately knowing what this meant, Number Two sat back down in her chair before hitting a nearby button, causing the chair to rise.

Coming up through the floor, Number Two emerged in the central room of the green dome, coming face to face with Number Five.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," Number Five apologised. "But...well, there's being a slight change in plan."

"What do you mean?"

"I thought I should let you know before the call came through," Number Five responded.

"Let me know what?"

Just then, the curved, red phone underneath the desk began to ring...

"Well, I guess I'll find out for myself." Steeling herself, Number Two answered the call...

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"Curfew time! All citizens! Five minutes to curfew."

Glancing at his new radio with scornful eyes, Number Six removed his dressing gown before tossing it towards the bottom of the bed. Still plagued by invasive, sexual thoughts, Number Six ran his right fist into his left hand.

He was angry. Infuriated, actually. For so long now he had been a captive. For so long now he had been a prisoner... But this was the first time he'd truly ever felt like a prisoner to himself. Yes, they'd tampered with him before. Many, many times in fact. But this was the first time he'd felt vulnerable while still being himself. All those other times it felt like he was trapped within his own body, in a nightmare. But this felt so real. So frighteningly natural. And in this dark hour...he even considered the possibility that Number Two was right. What if this was just part of who he was now?

Refusing to consider this terrifying prospect for even more than a second, Number Six marched towards his kitchen, determined to find proof of their...monkey business.

Eventually, after searching for several minutes, he found what he was looking for in one of the lower kitchen cabinets... A toothpick.

Knowing the precise locations of all viewing and listening devices in his home, Number Six carefully positioned his body in front of the toothpick, before bending down and carefully wrapping his left hand around it. Emerging into view grasping a small hand towel in his other hand, Number Six run it under the tap before heading into his living room, pretending he needed to clean his slightly stained coffee table...

On heading back towards his bedroom, Number Six carefully palmed the toothpick in his left hand, before turning his back to the camera once more. And then, carefully pulling back the bed covers with his other hand, he began to climb into bed. Letting out a small groan...Number Six delicately placed the toothpick in the middle of his bed, making note of its exact position, before laying down on top of it.

Number Six had always been meticulous in these sort of matters. If anything, anything at all was different in a room upon entering, he would notice it. And he was also aware of his own sleeping habits. He knew that he wouldn't be rolling around the bed in his sleep. He may turn from side to side, but would not move from the centre spot. So if, in the morning, the toothpick wasn't there, or was in a different place in the bed, he would know that they'd come for him in the night. He would have proof of their treachery once again... Content to calm his storm and ease his mind, Number Six closed his eyes, quickly drifting off to sleep.

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**(A/N). And so we reach the end of the chapter. Once again, thanks for the reviews and support.**

**All the best. Take care and please stay safe.**

**Until next time...be seeing you.**


	7. Uncharted Waters

**(A/N). Hello everyone. Welcome back to my Prisoner fan fic. As always, thanks for the continued support.**

**Right then, on with the chapter.**

* * *

"Now...music."

On hearing the announcer's words, Number Six opened his eyes, immediately greeted by the sound of bombastic music. The sound almost made his head explode. Once more, just like the previous morning, he had a headache. A terrible, terrible headache.

Putting both his hands to his temples, Number Six grimaced, the thumping pain growing more relentless by the second... Battling his intense headache, Number Six struggled to his feet, before literally staggering over towards the radio. On reaching it, he once again smashed it to pieces. As in one, angry motion, he seized the radio and cast it to the floor with such ferocity that it instantly shattered... And it was then...that he noticed her... And oh boy did he notice her.

"Morning, big boy." Number Five smiled, the door swinging shut behind her as she waltzed up the small flight of steps towards him.

Gulping with fear at the mere sight of her, Number Six remained still and rigid... It was clear from the way she was dressed that today she was determined to behave even more amorous than usual.

Wearing a skimpy French maid outfit that left little to the imagination, she twirled around for Number Six, forcing him to avert his eyes. "Surprise!" She giggled.

"Hardly," he remarked under his breath, unable to deny the fact that he was feeling extremely aroused right now. All trace of his headache was gone. The only thing he could feel was tingling. His whole body was crying out for physical contact. He needed her touch on a primal level. It was beyond his control. Suddenly, unable to control himself, he took a small step towards her... But while his body could not seemingly resist...fragments of his mind still could. "This is becoming a...bad habit of yours, isn't it?" He eyed her with suspicion, forcing himself to think, reason and question.

"I always get what I want, Number Six." She tossed her feather duster aside before beginning to run her right hand through his hair, caressing the scalp of his head with her fingernails. "You won't be able to resist forever you know. Eventually you'll give in. Eventually...every man does. And do you know why?"

"Do tell," Number Six growled, his resolve slowing collapsing. Indeed, it took every ounce of strength he had left to stop himself from grabbing hold of Number Five right now and acting upon his rampant, uncontrolled lust.

"Because you won't want to resist anymore." She smiled. "It's as simple as that. You're going to want to know what it feels like. What I...feel like." Leaning ever closer, she whispered in his right ear. "I don't want your secrets, Number Six. I just want you... Right...now." Her breathing growing heavy, she moaned slightly before nibbling on his earlobe... She carried on doing this until she felt the evidence of Number Six's desire suddenly pressing into her. Smiling with self-satisfaction, Number Five pulled back and met his gaze...

Number Six felt like he was on the verge of collapse. But more importantly, he was also on the verge of going along with her. After all, what harm could there be in surrendering to her? It wouldn't be the first time he'd given some ground to the enemy. Perhaps he could actually learn something by going along with her. Maybe he could even earn her trust? Yes, suddenly it made sense to him. He could find out fresh information while also having his way with her, and achieve release from his constant, irritating thoughts of a sexual nature, which would, in turn, see him restored to his true self. Yes! It was, quite simply, a splendid idea!... Unfortunately, though, there was a problem... It was a lie. A falsehood created by himself. This was a construct created by his inflamed manhood. In his heart (not in his compromised mind, you understand), Number Six knew this. But how could he fight back? This sensation was alien to him. He didn't know how to successfully combat it... Perhaps surrender was the only course after all?... And so, once more, Number Six found himself on the verge of giving in... But then he suddenly remembered Charlotte. He remembered her trust in him. He remembered her father, and his plea for Number Six to protect his daughter... Calling on all this, Number Six found himself momentarily transcending beyond his physical needs. But would it be enough to truly quash them?... Finally, one side emerged victorious over the other in this internal struggle...

Parting her lips ever so slightly, the blonde haired, buxom beauty moved in for a kiss. Their lips were just about to meet...when Number Six raised his right index finger and placed it on her lips.

"If you'll excuse me...I have to get ready for my date."

"What?" On seeing the resolve in his eyes, her own suddenly hardened.

Number Six couldn't help but give a slight smile on seeing the anger in her eyes. Satisfied, he turned away from her before making his way towards his bathroom. "I trust you can see yourself out."

"Fine." She slapped her hands against her upper thighs before walking down the steps, knowing that she'd blown her last real chance at bagging him (and the glory) for herself. But it was of no matter, the game was still practically over in her eyes. It just irked her that she wouldn't be the one to personally bring about the checkmate...

As he watched her leave from the bathroom, Number Six looked at himself in the mirror above the sink. Running the cold tap, he splashed water in his face. His eyes widening slightly, he suddenly recalled last night's plan. The toothpick!

Hurrying back towards his bedroom, Number Six moved the covers back slightly before staring in horror at the toothpick... Its position in the bed was perfect. If he had been removed last night, surely it would have shifted... Realising what this meant, Number Six stared forward with glassy eyes... He still had no proof. He had nothing to confirm to himself that this was all their doing... Maybe Number Two was right. Perhaps this was just the way he was now.

Beyond tired of his constantly inflamed manhood, Number Six very nearly decided to take care of the matter himself. The very idea of going outside in this state was just unbearable to him... But what would self love achieve in the long run? Nothing. And besides, he didn't want to give them an inch. Not an inch!... And so, resolved to facing another strong, cold morning shower, Number Six headed back into his bathroom with a surly expression on his face.

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The birds were singing, the breeze was cool and the sky was bright. Love was most certainly in the air on this particular afternoon in the Village.

Seated alone in the middle of the Village square, Number Six cut a forlorn figure amidst the many happy couple around him. Feeling uncharacteristically anxious, he glanced at his watch for the umpteenth time... Charlotte was almost an hour late now. For ages now he'd felt like getting up and going to her house, but hadn't been able to bring himself to do so. He was just feeling too...empty. He felt lost. Lost within his own mind. For the first time in his life...he felt lonely.

Looking around him, Number Six observed the several couples that were walking hand in hand. You see today...was a festival. Having refused to listen to his radio for the last couple of days, he'd missed the announcement. But today...was the festival of love, where those who had come together at the coupling event a few days prior, would broadcast their romances to the rest of the Village, in order to inspire those few (desperately few) single people that remained to go out there and find their significant others...

Lowering his gaze, Number Six noticed that his right hand was shaking slightly. Putting his left hand on top of his right, he stopped it trembling. He looked up on hearing a woman's voice.

"Do you like my outfit?" the pretty, 20 something young girl asked Number Six, as she sat down next to him. She was dressed in a tight outfit with flared trousers and wearing a cowboy hat.

"I'm not overly fond of the hat," Number Six murmured in response.

"Oh." She tipped it forward slightly in a playful manner. "Why ever not?"

"Bad memories."

"Of what?"

"A nightmare." Number Six looked away.

"Ah, there you are, Eighteen!" A young man approached the girl before tapping her on the shoulder. "I was wondering where you'd got to."

"Oh, you know I'd never stray far from you, darling." Her doe like eyes turned towards her beloved.

"You're as sweet as an angel." Finally, the young man noticed Number Six's presence. "Ah, hello there."

"Yes, hello." Number Six shifted ever so slightly away from the pair.

"Have you taken part in the survey yet?"

"What?"

"The survey?" The young man repeated.

"Oh, it's bags of fun!" Number Eighteen agreed enthusiastically. "They ask you different questions about life as as couple. For instance, who initiates hand holding the most." The young woman made a point of grabbing the young man's right hand while grinning almost maniacally at him.

"Yes, yes." Returning her wide-eyed stare, the younger man spoke towards Number Six without removing his gaze from her. "And what side of the bed do you sleep on, and such. Stuff like that."

Finally turning away from her beloved, Number Eighteen asked. "What side of the bed do you sleep on, Number Six?"

"The middle," Number Six replied dryly.

"Oh." She seemed surprised...

Not even hearing Number Six's response, the besotted young man nudged Number Eighteen slightly. "Come on, let's go back to my place."

"Sure." She giggled.

"If you'll excuse me." Feeling uncomfortable, Number Six got to his feet before walking away. Unable to stand the jovial atmosphere in the Village square, he began to walk back towards his cottage, now having given up on Charlotte ever arriving... He'd just stepped onto the road leading up to his cottage...when a Mini Moke pulled up beside him.

"Need a lift anywhere?" Number Two leaned out of the driver's seat.

Turning towards the car, Number Six was surprised to feel a sudden lurch in his chest. He felt warm inside on just looking at her face. He couldn't deny the fact that for some weird reason...he was overjoyed to see her. Absolutely overjoyed, in point of fact... Still, he would never bring himself to admit it. "No, thank you. Just heading home." He pointed towards his cottage.

"Ah, I see." Number Two gave a disappointed frown... "She stood you up, eh?"

Number Six let out a small, weary sigh.

"Come on." She patted on the passenger seat. "Get in."

"Why?"

"I have the day to myself," Number Two replied in a suggestive tone. "Let's do something together."

"I'd rather not." Number Six made to leave.

"Are you afraid of being alone with me?" she said in a teasing tone of voice... "Afraid of sailing in uncharted waters?"

Turning back towards her with narrowed eyes, Number Six carefully considered her words... "All right. But I'll want some answers in return."

"Fair enough."

"Good." Number Six hesitated for a brief moment before awkwardly sitting down next to her in the car, his fingers clicking on overdrive...

"This should be fun." Smiling, Number Two put her foot down on the accelerator pedal, the Mini Moke quickly speeding away.

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At Number Seventy's house, the old man was feeling anxious. He knew that the hour was growing close now. He knew that the moment of truth would soon be upon him and his beloved daughter, Charlotte... How was he going to inform them of his decision? How would they take it?

Sitting across the room from her father, the young woman looked at him with a sad expression in her eyes... "You're going ahead with it, then?"

"Well, I-" Seventy stalled in giving a response. After all, what could he say to her? He knew that no matter how one looked at his situation, he was to blame for his daughter being in endanger right now. He was the reason for his own family's suffering... And so, unable to respond to her accusation, the old man finally decided to change the subject somewhat... "You should have gone to him, you know."

"I couldn't risk it," she replied simply, her gaze now becoming apologetic... "I'm sorry, father."

"I know." The old man let out a sigh, suddenly finding himself reflecting on all his long years... How had he let things come to this?

Just then, the front door opened up, Number Eighty-nine entering, followed closely by another man (a swarthy looking fellow with sinister, small eyes).

Looking to her father in uncertainty, Charlotte opened her mouth as if to say something but nothing came out. Shifting her gaze towards Eighty-nine and then back to her father, the young woman finally spoke. "I...I think I'll leave you gentlemen to talk."

"Oh please don't leave on our account." The swarthy man stepped forward.

Merely responding with a small smile, Charlotte took her leave, making her way towards her room...

Now that his daughter was gone, Number Seventy allowed the anger to show in his eyes. Quickly getting to his feet, he spoke in a quiet, yet angry tone towards the approaching Number Eighty-nine. "What is he doing here?!" He pointed to the sinister looking man.

"I had no choice, I-"

"I made the call." The man stepped forward. "After all, as the only demolition expert you have, I think I'm entitled to a voice in this." He gave the old man a knowing look. "Don't you?"

"If he-"

"Without him we have no bomb." Eighty-nine hissed at the old man.

"I don't care!" Number Seventy took a step away from the younger man. "My only concern right now is for my daughter."

"Look, I've played my part as the peaceful, cooperative Number Sixty-five for long enough." The swarthy looking man reached into his right jacket pocket and held his number badge towards the older man. "No more." He tossed it to the floor... "Either you're with us or against us." Again, Number Sixty-five gave the old man a strange look, as though being constrained from speaking the absolute truth because of Number Eighty-nine's presence.

Suddenly feeling afraid, Number Seventy averted his gaze. "I want no part in this!"

"Well, if that's how you feel... But we can't allow loose ends to be left, can we?" Number Sixty-five let out a small chuckle. "Can't risk you running off to inform Number Two, can we."

Using the man's real name, Number Eighty-nine turned his body towards the man. "Carl, look, we...we don't need to-"

"Or maybe your pretty daughter, eh?" Carl refused to even absorb his friend's words at all.

Horror engulfing his whole being, Number Seventy's eyes widened slightly... "If you even touch her I'll-"

"I hope you reconsider." Carl let out another small chuckle before turning away. "Come on," he whispered to Number Eighty-nine, gesturing towards the door. "Be seeing you, old man."

As Carl made his exit, Number Eighty-nine looked at the old man with an apologetic look in his eyes. Knowing what must be done, though, he duly followed after Number Sixty-five, leaving his old comrade alone with his thoughts...

Slowly sitting back down in his chair, Number Seventy let out an uneasy sigh...

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**(A/N). And so we reach the end of another chapter. As always, thanks once again for the continued support.**

**Take care everyone.**

**Until next time...be seeing you.**


	8. Burning Heart

**(A/N). Hello there! And welcome back to my Prisoner fan fic. As always, thanks for the continued support.**

**On with the chapter.**

* * *

"This is a lovely spot, don't you agree?" Number Two yanked on the hand break, bringing the Mini Moke to a sudden stop...

Observing his surroundings, Number Six afforded himself a tiny smile... "Charming," he remarked before exiting the vehicle.

Climbing out of her seat, Number Two remarked. "I'm glad to see we're beginning this...little outing in agreement." (just managing to avoid saying the word 'date').

"Don't get too excited." Number Six gave her a look of warning. "I agreed out of politeness."

"Of course you did." Number Two smiled before walking on ahead...

They were on the outskirts of the Village, far beyond the central area of the main square. In fact, this was an area of the place that Number Six had rarely seen before... Heading in the direction of the surrounding mountains, they had stopped by a small running stream just on the outer edges of the nearby woods.

Looking around with furtive eyes, Number Six followed after her uneasily. He wasn't at all sure of her motives. There was still that genuine glimmer of honesty in her eyes, but it was mixed with a cunning nature. A cunning nature that had been instilled within her by her masters no doubt... But despite knowing this in his heart, his mind continued to struggle. Still unable to trust his senses, his senses that were drawing him to her...the Prisoner continued to feel helpless. And yet, in her presence, another side of his nature felt calm, at peace. It was an alien feeling, and it did frighten him. But nevertheless, he could not help but feel drawn to her...

"I wish I'd brought us a picnic now," Number Two mused. "Or at least a blanket to put down. Oh well, no matter." Picking a nice little spot by the stream, Number Two sat down on the ground before looking over her shoulder towards Number Six. Noticing the anxious, pensive look on his face, she smiled slightly. "No need to be cautious. There's no surveillance here."

His remaining, keenly tuned senses informing him that she was probably right about this, Number Six's eyes met hers, before he continued on and sat down next to her, making sure to keep his distance as he did so...

Nudging closer towards him, Number Two broke the building silence... "You know, I...I think it's time for another of our honest little chats."

"Is it really?" Number Six avoided meeting her eyes this time...

Number Two fell silent for a moment before cautiously continuing (knowing that the course of this conversation could be very testing for the both of them). "I know that you're a proud, strong man, Number Six. And I hope you don't feel as though I'm getting at you when I say this, but-"

"Get to the point." His tone suggested unbridled annoyance.

"Well, I couldn't help but notice that you seemed a little depressed back in the Village."

"For some strange reason, it has that effect on me," he replied dryly.

The older woman smiled at him, slight crinkles appearing near the edges of her lips. "I think there was a little more to it than that... Charlotte, perhaps?"

Ever so slightly interested by the fact that Number Two had mentioned Charlotte by name, Number Six finally looked into her eyes once more...

"You like her?"

Guard back up, Number Six quickly looked away again, turning his vision back towards the rolling land before him in the distance...

"I was right, wasn't I?.. You are afraid."

"You don't know me as well as you think," he responded in a quiet tone.

"Maybe not." She conceded. "After all, I don't believe a man with a charming fiancee in his...other life...could ever be totally dominated by the fear of love."

"You're treading on thin ice." Annoyed and angered beyond measure, Number Six's cold gaze met her determined one.

"But I suppose that's different. Duty, I mean." Number Two dared to deduce. "I mean, I'm sure you're fond of her...but you never loved Janet, did you?"

Number Six could hardly believe his ears. She was speaking of his past. She was actually acknowledging it. Acknowledging his life, nay his very existence before the Village, before all this... But of course, she would use it against him. He knew that. And he would give her no reaction. None whatsoever... Janet had long been pushed from his mind, for the thought of her was too painful. Memories of her now but a dream, and a faint dream at that. The kind that only ever reared its head on the very coldest and bleakest of nights... And yet, amongst all those deep feelings of longing, in this moment...he wondered if Number Two was speaking the truth. Did he love Janet, truly?... Or did she merely symbolise to him a better world? Or at the least, the promise of one...

"I don't blame you, you know." Number Two looked away thoughtfully... "I was the same once." Letting out a sigh, she extended her long legs and crossed them, before laying down on her back.

This movement catching him off guard, Number Six looked at her with slight amusement (not to mention a tiny hint of bemusement) showing in his eyes.

Ignoring his stare, Number Two continued. "I was married once... I was married to a lovely, gentle man."

"Really?" Number Six sensed an opening... "What was his name?"

Much to Number Six's astonishment, she responded... "Arthur."

Unwilling to let this opportunity slip by, Number Six pushed a little more. "Was he...involved in all this?"

"Hardly." Number Two found herself smiling at the memory of him... "He was a good man."

"I see." Number Six gave a small nod of his head... "Would hardly have fit in here, then?"

"No." Number Two freely admitted this... "I liked him. He was a dear, sweet man. And I did love him, in fact... But not in the way I should have." Suddenly feeling regret, Number Two cast her gaze to the blue sky above her...

Knowing, just knowing that she was different, so very different to all her predecessors, Number Six found himself uttering a direct, straightforward question. The dance be damned... "What do you want from me?"

"Trust," she replied without hesitation.

"That...I could never give you."

"Of course." Number Two sighed. "Who could you give it to here, in this place?... And to be fair, I would never even consider giving my trust to someone when I didn't even know their name."

Number Six turned his gaze back to her once more, scarcely able to believe what was happening. Was she about to...?

"Gwen." She smiled softly at him... "My name's Gwen."

After a few seconds of stunned silence, Number Six finally gave a small, appreciative nod of his head. "Nice name."

"Would you mind if I...used yours?" She sounded hesitant.

"For the moment, let's just pretend that you know nothing about me." Relaxing ever so slightly, Number Six laid down on his back next to her. "Let's pretend that you haven't even read any of my files."

"Yes, there are quite a few of them on you." Gwen let out a small chuckle.

"I can imagine." He gave a small smile, as he rested his head on his folded arms behind him...

"So...do you come here often?" She let out a small giggle at her own usage of such a cliched line.

"Oh yes." A mischievous gleam appeared in Number Six's eyes. "Coast of Morocco, south-west of Portugal and Spain. Lovely spot."

Number Two shot him a stern look out of her eye corner.

"Ever so sorry." Number Six suddenly found himself smiling slightly...

"Any hobbies?" Gwen inquired.

"Walking."

"Waking?" she echoed, returning his small, tight smile with another hint of playfulness showing in her eyes... "And that's it?" She suddenly sounded slightly exasperated, but the hint of gaiety in her tone remained.

Number Six's smile broadened slightly, the Prisoner enjoying Gwen's playful frustration.

"Well, you certainly must be a big hit on first dates." Gwen let out a small chortle, snorting slightly as she did so.

"Oh, how ladylike."

"No." Embarrassed beyond belief (her snort like laugh having plagued her since youth), Number Two shook her head slightly, trying to deny to herself that it had actually happened. Unfortunately, and predictably, in fear of it happening again, it naturally did so, as another snort like laugh was emitted.

For the first time in what felt like an age, Number Six actually let out a genuine, joyful (albeit small) laugh of amusement.

His mere presence causing the laughter to persist, Gwen continued to snort laugh. "No!" she declared in playful frustration.

"Oh please don't stop on my account." Number Six smiled.

"No, no." Number Two sat up slightly, her right arm waving for Number Six to stop talking, just knowing that even hearing the sound of his voice would make matters worse. "No, no." Unable to stop herself, she snorted again whilst laughing, this time causing her to blush...

A dry tone of voice was suddenly adopted by Number Six. "I suggest taking a deep breath," he sincerely advised.

Leaning forward, Gwen took Number Six's advice, as she forced herself to stop laughing and took a deep breath, composing herself a few seconds after... "Oh dear." She wiped her eyes.

"Here." Number Six handed her his folded handkerchief.

"Thank you." Number Two dried her watering eyes...

Suddenly reflecting on the last few seconds, and his emotional response to them...Number Six frowned as he sat up slightly, mirroring Gwen's posture... Speaking in a numb voice, he turned to her with slight desperation showing in his eyes... "What have you done to me?"

"What?"

"Yes...what?" Number Six looked away, examining his feelings... "This isn't me."

"Why not?" Gwen asked... "Is it so terrible to behave like a human being?"

"I think you should be asking your puppets in the Village that question." Feeling almost ashamed of himself for having felt such strong emotion towards her, Number Six suddenly climbed to his feet.

"You know what I mean!" Objecting to his harsh words, Gwen also got to her feet, tugging at his right arm as he tried to trail off into the trees. "Why are you afraid of feeling anything that even remotely resembles happiness? Why are you afraid of giving yourself to someone? What is it?!" she practically demanded to gaze into his psyche, into his very soul.

Shrinking at her touch, Number Six found himself quivering.

Pushing for an answer, Gwen continued to press. "Are you afraid of holding them? Kissing them? Making love to them!?"

His emotions bubbling over, Number Six suddenly clasped hold of Gwen's shoulders before pushing her back slightly, his eyes wide with fire... Overcome with desire, his burning heart close to bursting, Number Six froze... Oh, how he wished to hold her, kiss her, and yes...make love to her... He was equally paralysed and terrified by this overwhelming need.

Backing up slightly, Number Two forced Number Six to follow her (as his hands were still clasping hold of her shoulders). Leaning back against the Mini Moke, Gwen almost dared Number Six to give in to his feelings. Right here... Right now.

Looking at her with both scorn and longing...Number Six finally let go of her...

And that was it. The moment was gone. Once again, this extraordinary man had resisted... Feeling something far greater than mere disappointment at this, Gwen desperately sought to keep him close to her... "Need a lift?" She gestured to the passenger seat.

"No thanks." Number Six looked away. "I know my way back." His twitching hands finding his trouser pockets, the Prisoner began to walk off in the direction of the Village... After taking a few steps, he stopped and turned around to face her, overcome with a need to explain himself and his actions... "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

On seeing what he perceived to be genuine sincerity in her eyes, Number Six spoke solemnly... "I cannot give you what you seek, Gwen." Turning away once more, Number Six walked off...

Alone once again with nothing but her conscience, Gwen slammed her clenched fist down against the hood of the Mini Moke... Her longing gaze followed Number Six until he had disappeared completely out of sight...

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**(A/N). And so ends another chapter. Thanks again for all your support.**

**Take care.**

**Until next time...be seeing you.**


	9. The Windmills of Your Mind

**(A/N). Hello there. Welcome back to my Prisoner fan fic. As usual, allow me to start by saying thank you for the continued support. It means more than you know.**

**Right then, on with the chapter!**

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Midnight... The Village was quiet. Oh, so quiet. Silent as the grave, for that matter... But beneath that cloud of silence...sinister goings on were afoot.

Unbeknownst to this, Number Six was awake in his cottage. Even though the lights had been turned out hours ago, he just couldn't bring himself to sleep. He was too afraid to. Too afraid of losing even more of himself the moment he closed his eyes... He couldn't even bring himself to venture into the bedroom, as he was even too afraid of his own bed at this point, for it signified to him the loss of his own sense of self... And so there he sat, seated in his living room, his gaze facing forward... To look at him it was as though his mind was a blank, without expression, thought or meaning... But inside his head, wheels were turning. Around and around and around, like windmills, like windmills in his mind... Unable to make any clear sense of the last few days, Number Six remained in torment. As before, only one specific type of thought ever calmed his mind and eased his inner storm... And that was thoughts of Charlotte.

Yes, he had considered going to see her after getting back from his trip out with Number Two, but had ultimately decided against it. Charlotte had her reasons for not showing up no doubt... Or perhaps, as he truly suspected...Number Two had orchestrated it that way... Worried, though, for Number Seventy's safety in all this, Number Six resolved to go visit his old friend in the morning, and maybe get some answers from Charlotte while he was at it... But for now there was nothing to be done. No sleep, no rebellion, nothing at all. He merely intended to sit here in this very spot until this damnable night had passed...

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Meanwhile, a fair distance away from Number Six's cottage, in the dark and murky depths of the Village...three men proceeded onward.

"Come on," a voice whispered, as a young, blond haired man stepped out into the dim light. It was Number Eighty-nine.

Following close behind, Number Seventy and Number Sixty-five looked on anxiously, the latter clutching tight at his suitcase.

"Are you sure the photographs will work?" Seventy asked Sixty-five.

"Yes," he murmured in response. "They're positioned perfectly in front of the cameras.. In their eyes...we'll all be tucked up snug in bed." Sixty-five grinned, still overwhelmingly pleased at himself for dreaming up that scheme.

"If you believe they have only one camera in place per house then you're-

"We're hardly important enough, old man!" Sixty-five snapped.

"Carl!" Eighty-nine yanked his friend back into the moment. "Focus... We're almost beneath the Green Dome."

"Right." Taking a deep breath, Carl pushed on...

Eighty-nine was right in his assessment. They were very close to being directly underneath the Green Dome... You see, underneath the Village were a series of interconnected tunnels. All of these were only accessible to Village personnel, and some of the tunnels were of greater importance than others. The area beneath the Green Dome was the most guarded of them all. Clearly, that place was of great importance... As luck would have it, however, Number Sixty-five (Carl) had stumbled upon some very important information. One of the tunnel's (the very tunnel they were standing in right now) had been recently condemned due to safety reasons (as it was structuraly very weak), and had been isolated from the other tunnels and sealed off from them. This information had been gleaned from one of the guardians who was a traitor to the powers that be in the Village. Number Eighty-nine and Seventy had been very suspicious of this informer (believing that he could be luring them into a trap). But when the man had been put to death soon after, it served to ease these suspicions... And so here they were now. Having gained access to the tunnel (it's entrance been hidden deep in the woods) under the cover of darkness, they now stood so near its end. Its end which was connected so very close to the area beneath the Green Dome...

With the explosive device tucked up safe inside Carl's briefcase, they seemed so very close to victory now... But was it really victory that they were standing on the brink of? Was it truly?... Number Seventy did not view it that way. In this moment, the only thing the old man could think of were the repercussions that would surely follow...

As Carl walked on, and now alone with Eighty-nine, Seventy seized his chance, taking hold of the younger man's arm. "Wait."

"What!?" Eighty-nine snapped.

"If we do this...nothing will be the same again."

"You're right." Eighty-nine agreed with a nod of his head. "The people will see that our cause is just. They will rise up... No longer afraid of this symbol of tyranny."

"They will crush us all like ants underfoot, including my daughter. Do you not see that!?"

"Let go of me." Eighty-nine shook himself free before positioning himself directly behind the older man, pushing him forward. "Move!"

Knowing that there was nothing he could do, Number Seventy let out a defeated sigh before following after Sixty-five...

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Tapping. Yes, tapping. That was the sound Number Six heard on opening his eyes (having just began to surrender himself to sleep)... Looking towards his balcony, Number Six quickly realised that's where the sound was coming from. Rising to his feet, the Prisoner approached the balcony door before cautiously opening it, taking a step back with clenched fists upon doing so.

"Wait," a female voice whispered, as Charlotte reached out her slender hands, the young woman kneeling down on Number Six's small balcony.

Exhaling slightly with subdued relief, Number Six's hands found his trouser pockets, an air of irritation suddenly overcoming him. "A little late for visiting, isn't it?"

"I had to see you," she gasped, her breathing heavy.

Realising that something serious must be going on (one way or another) for her to try and contact him in this manner, Number Six's tone of voice changed slightly, taking on a more guarded, yet concerned tone... "What's wrong?"

"Everything." Relaxing somewhat, Charlotte slowly crawled inside the cottage before getting to her feet, before then stepping away from the balcony door. Looking around with furtive eyes, she scanned the layout of the room.

Realising what she was concerned about, Number Six spoke up. "If they are listening in right now, it's too late to hide your presence." Once more, Number Six's tone of voice shifted back towards that of irritation... "And what does it matter, anyway? Surely after what happened earlier today you're keeping them informed on all your movements, yes?"

Smiling slightly at his accusation, the young woman shook her head slightly. "Look, I'm...I'm sorry I didn't meet you today, but...I couldn't."

"Why not?"

"Seventeen," she replied simply. "He-he wouldn't let me leave the house today, he-"

"What?" Number Six found himself growing angry. At the mere mention of him, and at the mere thought that Charlotte might have been in danger, all rational thought slipped out of his mind. His suspicions towards her had gone in an instant.

"I don't know what he wants from me, I...I think he might be insane." Charlotte began to quiver at the very thought of her ordeal. "Either that or he's one of them. A guardian."

"If he were a guardian...why would he be interested in you?" Number Six narrowed his eyes, his true self returning as swiftly as he had departed.

"My father," Charlotte said, her eyes widening upon speaking the two words. "Seventeen may have thought I was going to tell you what I know, of what I've uncovered. It's why I'm here right now. We have to stop them!" Marching towards Number Six's front door, she tugged at it to no avail.

"It seldom works at this hour." Number Six explained. "If we have to leave we'll have to use the balcony."

"Right." She'd just began to make her way back towards the balcony door when Number Six suddenly stepped in front of her.

"But first...you tell me everything."

"There's no time, they-"

"Everything!" he barked.

"All right!" Charlotte exclaimed. "He's gone. My father. Eighty-nine and another man have gone with him."

"Where?"

"I don't know, exactly," she responded. "All I know is that they're going to do something terrible and that-"

"Go on!"

"Something to do with "beneath the Village". That's what I heard."

Number Six's face suddenly became rather thoughtful, wheels turning in his mind once more.

"I would have come here sooner, but...Seventeen appeared again and I couldn't even leave the house."

"Where is Number Seventeen now?"

"I don't know. He finally left."

"Come on." Suddenly sensing that they had very little time left to prevent this terrible thing, Number Six hurried onto his balcony, Charlotte directly behind him.

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Far, far beneath the Village...the conspirators had arrived at their destination.

Having reached the end of the tunnel, Number Sixty-five had set about preparing the explosive device. Having removed it from the suitcase, Carl had started to ready it. It was a very crude, old fashioned looking device, lacking in sophistication, its wires poking out here and there. But no doubt, it would get the job done, and would certainly pack a punch.

Standing just a few steps away, was a forlorn looking Number Seventy... For so long now he had desired to be in this exact position. To be in mere touching distance of hurting them. Of letting them, the powers that be, realise that they were not as all powerful and as all knowing as they thought... But now that the moment was here, all he could think about was the harm this would bring to others. And yes, he could not deny it, rather than focus on what may become of the citizens of this place...his thoughts mainly lie with his daughter, Charlotte... The moment they discovered his involvment in this, he knew what they would do to her. He knew that they would do it just to make him suffer. He knew this in his heart, and saw it with all the foresight he possessed... And yet still he stood there, watching Number Sixty-five ready the bomb...

On the opposite side of Sixty-Five, watching the entranceway to another tunnel (which led to another dead end), Number Eighty-nine was feeling anxious. The look on his face was evidence enough of this. Unable to prevent himself from giving way to momentary weakness, he looked towards his old comrade for a second, a look of desperation in his eyes.

Urging him on to act, Number Seventy moved forward slightly.

Witnessing the movement in his eye corner, Number Sixty-five looked to the old man, and then to Eighty-nine.

"Carl, I-" Eighty-nine had just began to speak when the other man silenced him.

"No!" Carl exclaimed. "We've come too far now!"

Acting on pure instinct, Number Seventy took another step towards him.

Suddenly producing a small pistol, Carl declared. "Get back!"

His eyes widening with slight realisation, Number Seventy glanced towards Eighty-nine, before then looking back towards Carl, and the pistol he was brandishing. "I see... Hitting back at your masters, is that it?"

"What?" Carl took a step back, his left leg brushing against the now open suitcase.

"Where did you get that gun?"

"I don't have to-"

"Carl!" Number Eighty-nine declared in both anger and confusion.

Seeing the distracted, conflicted look in Number Sixty-five's eye, Number Seventy suddenly charged forward.

Turning the pistol back towards the old man, Carl faltered, unable to pull the trigger.

"NO!" Eighty-nine declared, as Number Seventy and Carl collided... Before the younger man could do anything at all in way of intervening...the very ground beneath their feet began to shake, a tremor suddenly appearing out of nowhere.

"Don't you see!?" Carl yelled. "This is what they want! Tearing at each others throats!"

With all the strength he had, Number Seventy knocked the pistol to one side, the gun going off as it hit the floor...

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Just south of the Village square, Number Six and Charlotte dived for cover in some nearby bushes, in order to avoid detection from two passing Mini-Mokes, bearing two armed men in each vehicle...

Observing them as they passed by, Number Six looked to the ground beneath his feet, feeling the faint tremors coming from beneath the surface.

"Do you feel that?" Charlotte suddenly asked.

"Yes," he responded grimly.

"What does it mean?"

"If my guess is right, it means that your father has gotten much further than I anticipated," Number Six replied.

As the Mini-Mokes drove out of sight, Number Six carefully looked around for a moment (trying his best to plot a course that would best avoid all visual devices).

"Where are we headed?"

His eyes resting upon the best clear route, Number Six made to move. "The woods." Seizing on the opening, he burst out of the bushes, Charlotte close behind him.

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In the tunnels beneath the Village, the struggle between Number Seventy and Number Sixty-Five was over. For when the pistol had fired...Carl/Number Sixty-five...had been mortally wounded.

"What have you done?" Number Eighty-nine looked on in horror.

"I...I had no choice." Number Seventy looked to the gun on the floor, his voice numb.

"You killed him." Eighty-nine's eyes continued to linger on Carl's lifeless body.

"It was an accident!" the older man snapped, his eyes suddenly becoming inflamed, as his gaze landed on the explosive device. "We have to get out of here." Seventy had just begun to approach the device...when the ground shook once more. Struggling on, the old man fell down next to the device, his hands brushing against it.

"No!" Eighty-nine lunged forward. "His death can't be for nothing!"

"Don't be a fool!" Seventy raged, as the younger man threw himself to the floor, both of them scarmbling for control over the device.

His superior strength paying off, Eighty-nine was just about to yank it free of the old man's grasp...when a piercing, shining light suddenly appeared. It was as though a huge spotlight had been directed right at them.

His face a mask of terror, Seventy cried out. "Get out of here! Save yourself!"

"No!" the younger man boomed. "We've come too far now!" Fumbling with the device, he made to activate it.

The light growing stronger, pulsating more and more...it began to take a familiar, orb like shape...

Having successfully activated it, and determined to end this in an act of defiance, Eighty-nine struggled to his feet, explosive device in hand, and charged forward, straight towards the light... "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" his warcry echoed around the tunnel, the quaking suddenly ceasing.

Too weak to move, Number Seventy looked on in horror...as the young man threw himself into the light, instantly becoming enveloped by it...

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

The explosion felt terrific, but it was actually cushioned immensely by the ever growing light...

The ceiling above beginning to cave in, Number Seventy desperately tried to scramble to his feet, but the blinding light prevented him from being able to see. Suddenly, the wall right next to him crumbled, stone and rock raining down on him. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" he screamed with all the might left in his body...

Rover's roar echoed all around, the giant light now completely solid. The huge, massive being (much larger than its usual state) consuming the old man's lifeless body...

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**(A/N). And so we reach the end of yet another chapter. As always, thanks for the continued support. It really does mean a lot to me.**

**Thanks for reading.**

**Until next time...be seeing you.**


	10. Into the Night

**(A/N). Well hello, and welcome back to my Prisoner fan fic. Apologies for the lengthy delay but things have been rather hectic over here in my world. But anyway, as usual and as always, thank you for the continued support. It really does mean a lot to me.**

**Okay, let's get this chapter started! **

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"Get down!" Number Six exclaimed in a hush, as he threw himself to the ground, Charlotte quickly following suit.

Having ventured deep into the wooded area beside the Village, Number Six was slightly surprised to see so much activity in this remote area, as another Mini Moke went speeding past on the nearby road, whilst another trundled across a small grass clearing. He had been aware of the entrance to the vacant tunnel for some time now, and it certainly seemed like his hunch must be correct. Clearly, the old man and his protege, Number Eighty-nine, had decided to utilise this to their advantage... But if that was truly the case, why were the guardians wandering without aim, without focusing on the tunnel's entrance? It almost seemed as though they were unaware of what was going on underground. But the moment he threw the mini tremors into his mental mix, the very idea of them being caught unawares fell down flat. No, they were definitely searching for something...or someone.

"What are they doing?" Charlotte wondered aloud in mild frustration, clearly anxious to reach her father.

"Searching," Number Six replied in a whisper, stating the obvious.

"For my father?"

The answer to the riddle suddenly slapped him directly in the face... "For us."

"Us?" She sounded confused. "But why? We're not the ones who are-"

Unable to answer that question at present, Number Six stopped her mid sentence, eager to move on a little further. "We have to move." Without saying another word, the Prisoner got back to his feet and moved into a crouching position, before quickly moving on, Charlotte immediately following behind him...

No sooner had they just started to run when a tremendous wind suddenly picked up out of nowhere, howling through the trees and rustling the tree branches, privots and bushes all around them.

Shielding his face with his outstretched hand, Number Six struggled to see.

Overwhelmed by the sheer force of the wind, Charlotte looked away. "I can hardly breath!" she cried out.

The relentless wind (which seemed to be coming from all directions) caused Number Six to stumble backwards slightly. In his eye corner he caught sight of a moving light. No, several lights. Within seconds, the awful truth dawned on him... Knowing that the guardians were closing in, Number Six made a desperate attempt to draw them away from his companion. "Run for it!"

"I don't-"

"I said run for it!" Number Six demanded in a yell that somehow was audible over the tremendous wind.

Finally heeding his words, Charlotte finally took off running, fallen leaves swirling all around her.

Struggling forward, Number Six made to dash off in the opposite direction (hoping to lure them away from his companion). He'd only made it a few steps, though, when he heard the sound of Charlotte crying out, her scream howling on the wind.. Twisting around, Number Six immediatley noticed her crumpled body on the floor... Before he could move towards her, the sound of roaring vehicles were upon him, as a Mini Moke came bursting through the trees behind him.

Suddenly, as if by magic, the wind suddenly ceased, disappearing in an instant in the same way which it had begun...

As two other Mini Mokes closed in, Number Six hurried towards the fallen Charlotte, no longer caring about the presence of the guardians. The only thoughts and cares in his mind were of Charlotte...

"I...I-" A dazed expression on her face, Charlotte blinked weakly as Number Six hovered over her, a look of anguish spreading across his normally stoic features...

Slowly bending down, Number Six noticed the blood on the side of her head, and the offending blood stained rock directly next to her...

As the vehicles came to a stop (forming a perfect circle around the pair), a familiar voice spoke up...

"I wouldn't fret. I'm sure she'll be all right."

On hearing her voice, Number Six quickly spun around and got to his feet, coming face to face with Number Two...

Her elegant fingers trailing up and down the red sweater she was wearing underneath her jacket, Number Two narrowed her brown eyes slightly before climbing out of the passenger seat, throwing one end of her scarf that she was also wearing over her shoulder, as she approached Number Six... "A little late to be out taking a stroll, isn't it?" she remarked playfully.

"Good evening, Gwen," Number Six returned, eyes equally narrowed.

Number Two's eyes shifted to the guardians standing nearby for a moment (no doubt they were wondering how Number Six, a prisoner, knew her name when they themselves didn't), before she looked back to Number Six and smiled slightly.

"I must congratulate you, Number Six, you made it quite far and avoided detection rather well." Gwen let out a lenghty sigh before casting her gaze past the handsome man and towards the surrounding trees. "Although, unfortunatley for you...it was painfully obvious to me where you were both headed for." She looked him square in the eye. "Clearly, allowing you to have a secluded exercise area out here was a mistake on the part of my predecessors (she spoke in reference to how Number Six had first discovered the disused entrance to the tunnel)."

Emitting a low groan, Charlotte attempted to stand, only to fall straight back down to the ground.

"Ah, yes, Number Thirteen." Number Two slowly walked over towards her. "I'd almost forgotten about you."

Pushing his way past Number Two, Number Six again knelt down next to his companion before examing her head wound...

In a daze, Charlotte murmured. "I...I didn't know that they had hurricanes in this...part of the world." She forced herself to sit up slightly and look directly at Number Two, attempting to reinforce some sense of reality to the strange, private world which they were all now a part of. Like it or not, the Village was part of this world, and she knew its very location, and she seemed determined to make Number Two aware of this fact.

Eager to resume control, Number Two found herself smiling again. "We don't." With those two simple words, the balance of power shifted again, as she hinted at something Number Six and Charlotte already suspected... Indeed, the Village's power was so great it even extended to the very forces of nature, for that was no ordinary wind storm they had just experienced...

Number Six arched an eyebrow. "How about earthquakes?" And just like that, it was Number Six's turn to take command of the situation, suddenly putting Number Two on the back foot once again.

Unable to answer, Number Two merely let out a small chuckle while leaning on the umbrella she was holding... Finally, she shook herself free of the pesky need to verbally joust with Number Six, and began to speak in facts. "I imagine it will greatly disappoint you when I say that they were unsuccessful. All three of them."

"My father!?" Charlotte exclaimed in horror (her inner strength appeared to visibly crumble upon hearing Number Two's words).

"Don't worry," Gwen spoke in a tried, frustrated tone of voice. "He's still alive... Unfortunately, I can't say the same for his accomplices."

Feeling his anger growing, Number Six began to walk towards Number Two, only to be thwarted by two guardians, who quickly approached from the side, stopping him in his tracks...

Putting salt on the wound, Number Two continued to speak. "They achieved nothing. The explosion thwarted... Hooray for our side, eh?" She let out that delightful chuckle once more.

Trembling again at the sound of her laugh, Number Six shook his head slightly. For even now, when she was at her most vicious, exposed and, quite frankly...irritating...he still found himself drawn towards her. In fact, it was a greater feeling than that. He felt...entranced by her.

The look on her face suddenly becoming solemn, Gwen felt instant regret at her words. It was odd...why would she feel regret at hurting him? Mere seconds ago it had been her very intention... The silence now becoming unbareable, she motioned for the guardians to take Charlotte away. "Take her to the hospital."

Immediatley, the young woman began to protest. "No, I-"

"Your father is there," Gwen said simply, putting an end to Charlotte's complaining...

As Charlotte was carefully hoisted to her feet by two of the guardians, Number Six turned and looked at her very carefully, searching for any remaining forms of resistence in the young woman's eyes... He found none.

As Charlotte was placed into the back of the Mini-Moke, her soft eyes met Number Six's.

Letting out a small sigh, Number Six observed the weariness within her gaze. There was something missing now. It wasn't just about her father. Yes, that was the reason for her crusade this night, but it went deeper than that... He sensed that, in a strange sort of way, perhaps she had always wanted them to be caught... And right now, in this very moment, Number Six wouldn't have blamed her for feeling that way...

As though reading his thoughts, Charlotte weakly lifted her right hand up and extended it towards him.

Ignoring the presence of the other guardians, Number Six took a few steps forward before reaching out and touching her hand, and again his eyes met hers... Unfortunatley, he once again found no sign of resistance, only weariness.

Observing the scene from a short distance away, Number Two found an unusual flaming irritation consuming her whole being. She couldn't understand it. She knew that her masters would be pleased to see that Number Six was still expressing interest in Charlotte, yet even so...she couldn't stand the way he was looking at her any longer. Unable to control her own voice, she suddenly declared. "Take her away!"

Obeying without question, the driver got into his seat, the rest of the guardians following suit, each of them climbing back into their vehicles.

Noticing the look of disappointment in Number Six's eyes, Charlotte smiled weakly. "I'm sorry."

Number Six didn't respond. He merely kept his eyes on her until the Mini-Moke drove away, carrying the injured young woman away with it... As silence descended around himself, Number Two and the other sole guardian that still remained, Number Six looked at both of them in turn before calmly dusting himself down... He was just about to walk away, when Number Two suddenly spoke up.

"No!" Her voice was filled with strength and authority.

Hardly able to believe his ears, Number Six slowly looked towards her. The expression on his face was still stoic...but his eyes betrayed his true feelings. But what were his true feelings, exactly? It was difficult for him to compute... Fear? Excitement? Giddiness? It was hard to say, really. All he knew was that, once again, they were alien to him, uncommon to his entire being...

Letting out a small sigh, Gwen calmed herself in an instant... But then, with quiet authority, she gestured towards the passenger seat of the Mini Moke she was standing next to... "I insist."

"Insist?" He returned boldly, unwilling to budge, unwilling to negotiate, unwilling to give in to his feelings towards her...

Another smile creeping upon her lips, Number Two fell silent for a moment, pondering. Would she allow him the continued illusion of his freedom? Would she allow him any satisfaction at all?... Oh how she wished to reveal the truth to him, of how he was nothing but a toy in her hands, in spite of the sway he had over her, in spite of the way he made her feel, this damnable man!... Finally relenting, she gestured to the seat once again... "I...implore you."

"Implore me?" Number Six felt a sudden wave of power within him. For how he was loathe to admit it to himself, her submission to him, to his will, to his very being...caused him to feel...aroused... And yes, despite detecting signs of clear sarcasm in her voice, it still made no difference to the new him, he still felt overcome by this power. That she, such a strong woman, was willing to beg just to be near him...why, it was all he could do to stop himself from surrendering to his lust, to his need to hold her in his arms... The silence contiuning to build, Number Six relished this moment, he relished every second!... Finally, when he felt enough time had passed, he relented with a self-satisfied smirk on his face, as he carefully approached the Mini Moke before climbing aboard. But now, right now...he seemed almost permanently changed. The regular, cold expression behind his light blue eyes having been replaced by those of a man lost in a lecherous trance.

After instructing the remaining guardian to stay behind and check on the tunnel, Gwen sat down in the car next to Number Six, silently seething. It was as though she could read his thoughts...and they angered her and inflamed her beyond measure. Taking out her frustrations on the pedal, she stepped down on it hard, the vehicle quickly speeding away into the night...

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The journey back to Number Six's cottage was a quiet, uncomfortable one. The night air only made things worse. It was so strange to see the Village so silent, so asleep. In a way, though, he almost enjoyed the silence, he enjoyed seeing the empty streets. For so many days now he had been tormented by his "new" self. He had been tormented by so many lovers enjoying their newfound bliss (however artificial it may be). It was almost a relief to be free of them...

Her hands gripped tight around the wheel, Number Two's eyes were lifeless, her mind racing with so many, many thoughts and feelings. Feelings that were hard to identify. From rage to jealousy, to hatred to guilt, and all within but a few moments. The closeness of him made her shudder...it made her feel alive. She wanted nothing more than to pull the handbreak and take him in her arms... But why? As another step towards breaking him? Another step towards overwhelming him in his already battered mind?... Or was it merely to sate her own desires?

Finally, after an age had passed, they arrived at Number Six's cottage.

Pulling the Mini Moke to a screeching halt, Gwen slowly turned to face him, her face a mask of so many conflicting emotions. It was as though right now, in this moment, her own inner-battle was almost as great as his.

Completely rigid and unable to move, Number Six looked to the door of his cottage longingly. But did he want to escape to the safety of his home? No, not really... He wanted to escape to his old self. His true self... But did he want to? Were the thoughts that were ruling over him right now bringing him closer towards his own destruction, or merely closer to achieving self-gratifcation? (something he had been a long, long time without).

Reading his mind with ease, Gwen pushed herself towards him... "You know, I...I wouldn't refuse a night cap." Her tone was inviting. So, so inviting... Taking a further liberty, she allowed her hand to brush against his leg, but he didn't flinch.

That lecherous look returning to his eye, Number Six smiled slightly, before twisting his body around in order to face her. All sense of his true self was hanging by a thread. This was it. Finally, finally he could achieve glorius release!

"Do it," Gwen said in a hush. "Only you have the power. Do it... Demand of me... Take me, damn it!"

Lunging forward, Number Six grabbed hold of her before throwing her backwards, almost knocking her out of the car, his lips finding hers. The euphoria the kiss brought to him made him shudder, his eyes were wide with fire, his hands on the verge of wandering and exploring her body right here and now, the seclusion of the cottage be damned!

Inviting him to go on, and wanting this moment, this kiss to last as long as possible, Gwen wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer towards her. Clearly, she was enjoying this far more than she should be...

His entire resistence was just about to crumble...when Number Six's eyes suddenly flickered. Within seconds, the kiss changed from been passionate to being mechanical, from been intense to being lacklustered. And then, just like that...his true self (or perhaps I should say, his old self) came roaring back... Unable to believe what was happening, Number Six threw himself backwards and away from her... Panting with fear, his eyes still wide (this time they were filled with panic), he struggled further back, almost falling out of the car himself.

"Wait," Gwen said breathlessly.

"GO!" he yelled at her, infuriated beyond measure.

As she watched him clamber out of the Mini Moke and stagger over towards his house, she felt compelled to follow him, but somehow resisted the urge... Suddenly getting the feeling that eyes were watching her, Number Two realised that she must remain in control of herself. Knowing that her Masters would be demanding many answers of her, she leaned back in the driver's seat and let out a dejected sigh, before starting the car into motion again, trying her hardest to put the kiss out of her mind...

Pacing back and forth, Number Six ran his right hand through his unkempt hair before finally approaching his door. This time, it swung open for him by itself. Clearly, they'd been watching... But he didn't care anymore. He just wanted it to end! If he could rid himself of his need for release perhaps these urges would go away altogether.

Determined now to gain release, Number Six stromed inside his cottage. As he made his way up the small steps leading towards his bathroom, he made to unbutton his trousers, his inflamed manhood crying out for touch... He was just about to step into the bathroom and close the door behind him...when he heard a faint sound from the kitchen area... It sounded like running feet. It was as though someone without shoes was racing towards him (no doubt they had removed their shoes in order to avoid being heard). Number Six spun around just in time to see a statue being held aloft and swinging down towards him.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Number Seventeen yelled in fury, bringing the object down hard.

Lunging out of the way just in time, Number Six dodged before throwing himself towards Seventeen, the two men crashing down the steps and towards the fireplace.

Rolling towards Number Six, Number Seventeen brought his left arm swinging down, his clenched fist connecting with Number Six's stomach.

Battling through the pain, Number Six scrambled back before attempting to climb to his feet.

Diving forward, Seventeen wrapped his hands around Six's throat.

Forcing himself to his feet, and dragging Number Seventeen up with him, Number Six tried to pry the other man's hands from around his throat to no avail. Placing his hands together in a praying position, he brought them up sharply and used the upward, strong motion to break Seventeen's hold on his neck. And then, with lightning fast speed, Number Six landed a two punch combo, left then right, driving Number Seventeen further backwards and towards the door.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Fury consuming his entire being, Number Seventeen charged forward like a rampaging bull.

Seeing his opponent was wide open to attack, Number Six stepped aside and landed another swift punch to the other man's jaw, but it barely dazed him at all. Seventeen just kept moving, spinning himself around before kicking out at Number Six, forcing him back towards the door that led out to the small balcony.

Ramping up his attack, Seventeen kicked out again before breaking through Number Six's defences, landing another kick before then landing a blow to Number Six' abdomen.

Almost falling down in pain, Number Six let out a small gasp, his vision suddenly becoming blurred, voices echoing in his mind, before Charlotte's face appeared before him in a blur.

"Had enough!" Sealing his victory, Number Seventeen jumped up before swinging out his right leg, his foot connecting with Number Six's jaw, sending the Prisoner crashing back and into the wall next to the door, before he fell face down and laid in a heap, knocking over a table as he did so...

Sprawled out, Number Six found that his fingers were numb, and his whole body was convulsing. What was happening to him? Desperate to keep moving, he crawled forward slightly, until he made it onto the tiger rug.

Wiping some blood from his lip, Number Seventeen trudged forward. His eyes narrowing, the man looked down at his prey with satisfaction... "I think it's time I put an end to this."

Rolling onto his back, Number Six continued to shake, hardly able to feel any part of his body at all now.

"You think you're the big hero? You think you can always have your own way?" Madness in his eyes, Seventeen suddenly lunged downward, grabbing hold of the Prisoner's throat once more.. "Well not anymore... And after I'm done here, I'll wait for my chance before going to see Charlotte." He chuckled darkly at the very thought. "Oh yes. I'll enjoy having my way with her." Seventeen was just about to choke the life out of Number Six...when the other man's eyes suddenly focused.

His face becoming pale with anger, Number Six found his strength again. At the mere mention of Charlotte's name, everything had changed. Seeing a sudden glimpse of fear in his enemy's eyes, Number Six knew that he had to seize on this moment. And so, with one, quick, burst of energy, Number Six lifted up his feet before kicking them into Number Seventeen's back, sending the man clattering into the fireplace.

Crashing forward, Seventeen attempted to steady himself, his arms reaching forward.

Struggling to his feet as fast as he could, Number Six got into his fighting stance before swinging a tremendous right hook towards Seventeen.

Turning around just in time to see the fist swinging towards him, Number Seventeen's eyes widened in fear.

Connecting with his tremendous punch, Number Six knocked Seventeen back against the fireplace... Seeing the dazed expression on his opponent's face, Number Six lunged forward before wrapping his fingers around Seventeen's neck... Tightening his grip, Number Six proceeded to begin choking the other man to death.

Too dazed and weak to fight back, Seventeen weakly tried to pry Number Six's hands from his neck, but it was no use.

All sense of control now lost, Number Six continued to tighten his hold...

Finally succumbing, Seventeen slipped into unconsciousness.

Determined to kill his enemy, Number Six's souless eyes followed Seventeen to the floor, his fingers still wrapped firmly around his neck... In fact, Number Six was so lost in his rage, that he failed to notice the sound of the outside door opening... The next thing he knew, he felt a blow at the back of his neck, and he went crashing to the floor, landing next to his unconscious opponent.

Lowering his truncheon, the guardian who had struck Number Six looked to his comrade before nodding to him. The two of them proceeded to carefully pick Number Six up, before carrying him up the nearby steps and placing him on his reclining chair. Turning around, they walked back down the steps before lifting Number Seventeen up, before then carefully carrying the unconscious man out of the cottage...

After a few minutes had passed, Number Six slowly opened his eyes. Feeling a stinging pain all over his body, he weakly tried to get up, only to immediatley fail. Desperate to be free of this chair, he rolled to the side, hitting the floor in a heap... His weakness having returned (along with the convulsions), Number Six slowly crawled towards his bedroom, desperate for some form of refuge... On finally reaching the bed, he crawled up upon it and sprawled out, his mouth hanging open like that of a dead fish...

His eyes flickering, Number Six rolled onto his back... The last thing he saw was a shining, burning light descending towards him, before sleep finally claimed him...

.

.

.

.

"Charlotte," a voice whispered weakly... "Charlotte."

His disoriented, hazy eyes opening, Number Seventy scanned the blank ceiling above his head... The room was dark, and he was alone. He could feel it... There wasn't even any surveillance in this room... Finally, and with a great deal of effort, he forced himself to lean his head forward. In doing so he confirmed his suspicions. He was in the Village hospital... He attempted to stand, only to fail immediately, his head flopping back down onto the pillow...

He was just on the verge of succumbing to sleep, when he heard a faint creaking sound. Rather than look up again, he just remained very still. In but an instant, a strange sensation seemed to wash over him. It was a feeling of...acceptance.

Closing the door behind them, the individual slowly approached the bed, hands trembling... Reaching out to a nearby chair, and the pillow that was on it, the person picked it up before tentatively approaching the bed.

As though instantly sensing what was happening, and what was about to happen, the old man felt his body quivering slightly... But then that feeling of acceptance returned.. The time had come now when his life was to end. The Village no longer deemed his life worthy, and he knew that he was powerless to resist them in this matter... But if he was to die here in this bed...he would do so whilst putting up the greatest fight of his life. And so, forcing himself to sit up, Number Seventy's eyes met those of Death itself... And in meeting its gaze...all remaining hope (however faint that hope may be) flooded from him, and he collapsed back onto the bed, his body beginning to convulse in shock, fear and horror... How?... How had it come to this?

Stepping forward, the individual took a deep breath...before smothering Number Seventy.

He did not struggle, for he didn't have the inner strength to do so. He merely laid back and embraced Death. His arms reaching forward and wrapping around his killer... In but a few small moments, his arms fell down...and all was still.

* * *

**(A/N). And so ends another chapter. As usual, thanks for the continued support. I can't promise when the next update will be, as things are just so up in the air for me right now in more ways than one. Rest assured, though, as soon as I'm able and feeling motivated, I will start work on the next chapter. Until then, thank you for your patience.**

**Thanks for reading.**

**Until next time...be seeing you.**


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